


Wolf Hunter

by amproof



Category: Supernatural, Supernatural RPF
Genre: Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Alternate Universe - Werewolf, Brain Damage, Human-Werewolf Interactions, Jared is a giant puppy, Jared's Love Life or: What To Do When Your Mate Wants to Kill You, Jensen is a badass, Jensen kills a lot of wolves in this, M/M, Mating Bond, My own take on alpha/beta/omega dynamics, Omega Jared Padalecki, There is no self-lubing here., This is a werewolf story for people who do not like werewolf stories., V-shaped polyamory, Werewolf Turning, Werewolves, Werewolves play baseball., at the end, no human-animal sex, people from small towns know what I'm talking about, zucchini - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-22
Updated: 2016-11-22
Packaged: 2018-09-01 13:21:43
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 13
Words: 66,062
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8626090
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/amproof/pseuds/amproof
Summary: Jensen is a big, bad werewolf hunter. Jared is only two of those things.





	1. Chapter 1

_Town Name: La Mer-sur-Plaines. Size: 3.00 sq. mi. Pop. vocation(s): Farming, 18%; Factory/Blue Collar: 32%; Finance/White Collar: 8%; Coal Mining, 13%; Small Business (owner/employee): 20%; Other: 6%; Unemployed: 3%. Terrain: 100% flatland, of which: 20% in-town residential, 40% farmland, 30% woodland, 1% lake/bodies of water, 8% prairieland. Population: 3500. Male population: 44%, female population: 66%, of which werewolf population: Est. 5%. Crimes reported 2000-2010: Murder (4), Sexual Assault by unknown (5), Non-sexual assault by unknown (157), Domestic Battery/Assault by known (51), Theft/Non-Assault (544), Missing Persons (135). Median income: Males, $35,252; females, $24,781. (Margin of error for survey: +/- 3%)._

_****_

At an hour past dawn, Jensen parked his car on a residential side street and made his way into the town square, following along sleepy dew-kissed sidewalks toward a bright coffee shop he'd seen, shuttered, on his drive into La Mer-sur-Plaines at dark o'clock the night before. It was a small enough town that the girl behind the counter greeted him and asked for his order before the door had closed behind him. She started prepping his coffee (black, large, as hot as she could make it), as he moved toward her. He walked slow, trying to shake his joints free of his fourteen hour road trip. His senses threw up a warning, and he glanced sidelong at the Curlicue Coffee Shop's only other patron, a man in his fifties with a round gut pushing the buttons on his pale blue shirt. The guy tightened his grip on his "Come to Curlicue's" mug and didn't look up from his La Mer Morning Herald.

"Here you go." The girl's hand shook when she put Jensen's lidded paper cup on the counter between them. Jensen stared at it, thinking of the ceramic mug in the other guy's hand, and smiled. Smart girl, giving him a hint that he shouldn't stay. Maybe she'd seen the blood on his knuckles or didn't like the way he tried to walk like he didn't have a limp. Hell, situation reversed, and Jensen would kick himself out, too. Beat up brown leather jacket, RIP Tupac T-shirt, torn blue jeans (from snagging them on a nail as he fell down a mineshaft, not from paying $500; the nail had saved his life) that had seen their best days five years before, ass-kicking black lace-up work boots, and a face that kept a glare as its default expression... He was a suspicious-looking m-f'er. He put his money down, and she didn't meet his eyes, and he didn't give a shit if his grin looked threatening to her.

The Alpha was here, or nearby--Jensen was more sure than he'd been in months of dead ends and fruitless leads--and once Morgan was gone or dead, he'd make himself scarce. People never liked him to stick around. He reminded them that they had reason to fear their nightmares, but he was okay with that. He didn't do what he did for them; he did it for himself, for his own thirst, his own hatred, which drove him better and further than simple unappreciated heroism ever would.

"Thanks, kitten," he said, his voice a low growl because even though he expected her fear, it didn't mean he enjoyed it. When she didn't respond, he headed for a table near the door--the better to see out the picture window beneath the cheerful curlicue logo.

"Excuse me?" The other man lumbered up from his chair. He stood, the same height as Jensen but twice as wide. "What'd you say, stranger?"

Jensen's veins tingled, the drug in him keen on the sensitivity that allowed him to know wolves from humans, itching for a fight. He'd ignored it since he stepped into the little shop, wanting coffee first, but it wouldn't wait any longer. The drug acted on him, dried his tongue, told him, "Monster." He waited for its move, kept his eyes downcast, gaze locked on his blood-stained jeans. "Nothing to you."

"That so?"

Jensen glanced up, saw the yellow behind its pupils. "That's so." He pulled his knife and lunged. The monster sputtered, grabbed at him with a newly furred hand, and collapsed. Jensen slit its throat, wiped his knife clean on the semi-wolf's shirt, and put it away. He looked up to see the barista backed against the wall, her mouth open and working like she couldn't summon any sound out.

"Sorry about your floor."

"He's, he's--" From her distance, she gestured at the snout and sprouted fur the wolf had summoned up before Jensen laid him low.

"A werewolf," Jensen said. He moved his coffee to another table. "I'm going to suggest you shut down for a few hours so I can clean this up. You need to call your boss and get permission?"

She shook her head, lips pinched.

"You sure?"

"That was my boss."

Jensen glanced down at the corpse. Its blood colored the front of its shirt so dark the criss-cross pattern was indiscernible. "Huh." He stepped closer to the girl. Now that the other one was dead, he could sense her secret too.

"What are you doing?" Her voice shook and she started to run, but she wasn't fast enough, not in her human form.

"Your boss, huh? Or your father?"

"What's it to you?"

He caught her and pushed his knife into her gut. He eased her down next to the counter. "You're all the same to me," he said as her eyes went dark. He slit her throat and she died. He picked up his coffee, and swept the coins she hadn't put away back into his palm--partly to get rid of anything with his fingerprints on it, but mostly because killing monsters paid shit. Covering his hand with his sleeve, he flipped the "open" sign to "closed", locked the door and pulled the shades.

He just managed to drag the male behind the counter before his stomach cramped. Gritting his teeth against the groan that wanted to come out, he pushed his forearm against his gut until the pain passed. Then he dragged himself into the back for a mop and pail and got to work.

  
  


****

Leaning against the chest-high counter top that divided the living room from the kitchen, Jared stared at his calendar that hung on a bent nail wedged into a crack in an oak wall beam. Had he missed a week? He stared again at the little moon symbol on the calendar. Ten days out until the full, and yet his body was acting like it was only a few days away. He tried to ignore it, but it was hard to ignore anything when his super-charged hearing could pick up rabbits chomping on his garden vegetables a hundred yards away.

His wrists itched. He gave them a good rub as he sipped his tea. He'd finally found a way to stop himself from turning. The last six months had been amazing. A cup of tea at breakfast and another after dinner, and he could have a normal life. Hell, he was ready to do an infomercial about it. _"Now you, too, can be your best self. Let me show you how!"_ Because of the weirdness, for lack of something else to call it, amping him up, he'd made it full-moon-strong this morning, and his stomach rumbled in uncomfortable protest.

 _Better dead than a killer._ He needed to find a more powerful herb that worked the same way but didn't make his insides feel like puking themselves up--one he could grow in his garden and which he could obtain by the next full moon. During the full moon he needed to triple his dosage, and since he was at triple force now on a regular day, if things kept up as they were, he'd be at triple triple over the upcoming full moon, and he didn't want to think about what that might do to him.

He'd exhausted all the resources he had. Time for a trip to the library...

"Do you have any more of that tea?" Tom's voice emerged like a groggy bear out of a cave from the couch behind him.

...as soon as he got Tom's hungover ass out of his house.

Tom meant the "intoxicated dumbass tea", not the brew Jared was drinking. Jared left the calendar alone and glanced at him. Ever since Jared had shown him his hangover cure, Tom swore by it.

"I can make some," Jared said, heading for the refrigerator where he had his freshly cut herbs stored. Tom was doing his best to make Jared's already over-sized couch look like part of a child's playset. His huge socked feet hung off the edge, and Tom had wedged his shoulders against the arm in an attempt to pillow his head on it, but had instead succeeded in manipulating his neck into an unnatural ninety-degree angle. One arm was flung up the back of the couch, hand hovering stuck in the air, while the other arm bent at the elbow to make a V over his chest and ended where his fingers curled into the collar of Jared's borrowed T-shirt.

"Don't start." Tom opened his raised hand, as if warding Jared's lecture off.

"I'm making you tea."

"It's your own fault you got drunk," Tom said, ignoring him as he did a high-pitched, nasal-focused impersonation of Jared that sounded nothing like him. "You know what happens when you mix beer and liquor."

"Making tea," Jared sing-songed.

Groaning, Tom rolled himself over. "Screw you. It's my goddamn birthday. I'll drink if I want--"

"Not saying anything," Jared said, though he paused in putting the herbs into the mesh strainer and looked pointedly at his swinging screen door that Tom had knocked off the latch with his "entrance" the night before. Plus, Tom had slept in Jared's shirt because he'd "lost" his own somewhere between O'Riley's Pub and the tailgate party at the rock quarry. He'd lost a shoe as well. It was a miracle he'd arrived at Jared's (intact) door with pants.

"Screw you," Tom repeated. He lurched to his feet. "I'm a... I'm an alph... Oh shit." Clapping his hand over his mouth, he stumbled toward the bathroom, crashing into the couch as he went. Jared covered his ears when the retching started and prayed he'd made it to the toilet.

"Tom? You okay?" Tom never pulled this alpha shit unless he was wasted, which would have worried Jared--made him think that Tom's "we're all equal when I'm sober" spiel was just an act, except Tom tended to be miserable when he was drunk, so it was probably more expectation weighing on him than his actual belief system coming through.

A weak groan offered a reply. Jared grabbed a towel and a bucket and headed for the sorry sound. The vomit splash started at the edge of the bathroom and made a V up to the toilet. Jared pulled Tom out of it, and wiped his mouth. Leaving Tom kneeling over the bowl, he cleaned up the floor and then ran water over a clean washrag.

"You're an idiot," Jared said, crouching beside him. Tom looked up, bleary eyed, and made a face that probably hadn't changed since he'd gotten owwies as a wolfcub and gone running to his mother. Jared couldn't resist it either. He tried for keeping his expression stern as he tenderly laid the damp rag over Tom's forehead. "You alphas are all the same."

"Generalize much?" Tom grabbed Jared's wrist when Jared started to pull away and leave the washrag to Tom's own hand.

"Everyone thinks alphas are these big dominant overachieving heroes, but the second somebody shows the slightest inclination to take care of you, you all roll over and show your bellies for a scratch."

Tom pushed the washrag out of his eyes to reveal a mischievous glint. "You want to scratch my belly, Jay?"

Jared pushed the rag back down. "Omegas don't get away with this crap. I don't have anyone holding my hair back when I act like a dumbass. I'm expected to take care of myself and you while acting like I'm totally helpless and holding up the illusion that you're my big strong hero."

Tom patted Jared's hand, which he was still holding pressed to his forehead. "You're too focused on image. You never do any dumbass stuff." Wincing, he pulled himself up by the elbow against the toilet and flushed it. He leaned on the seat as his last night's dinner swirled away.

"Did we have sex last night?"

"Let me check my ass." Jared pretended to pat himself down. "No."

"Good. I probably wanted to, though, right?"

"When don't you?" Jared asked. He grinned. "Hell, when don't I?"

"Thanks for letting me in, anyway."

Jared shrugged. "You're not that big a threat, Tom."

"No," Tom shook his head. "Just because we do it sometimes doesn't mean I should take advantage."

"You didn't."

"If you were smaller--"

"Tom. You didn't do anything. You didn't try to do anything. And you wouldn't have even if I couldn't kick your ass for trying. Got it?"

Tom looked uncertain, or greener.

"Geez, man, what is wrong with you?"

"Don't know." Tom lurched up again. Jared patted his back as the last of the night's festivities hurtled out of him. "Just feel weird, I guess."

"You drink too much."

"No. Felt weird before."

"Probably because you're getting old. Come on." Jared helped him up and over to the sink. "Let's get you rinsed out and then I'll finish making you that tea."

"What if we got mated?" Tom wobbled at the sink as Jared held him up. "I could make an honest wolf out of you."

"You are not asking me to be your mate after you puked on my tiles."

"I could make you." Tom's voice grew stronger. "You'd have to say yes."

Jared squeezed him, a solid threat. "You do and it will be the last word I ever say to you."

Tom managed a laugh. He stared down at the running water. "Guess I wouldn't have to worry about dinner conversation being awkward."

Jared pushed a Dixie cup to his lips. "Drink this and shut up."

Tom nodded sorrowfully. He swished and spat. "Thanks. Sorry I tried to make you the happiest wolfman alive." He leaned over and put a chaste kiss on Jared's shoulder. "And about your tiles."

"Weirdo," Jared said, with fondness. Then, "I don't know why you're talking about mating with me anyway. You're going to settle down with a nice she-wolf and have lots of cubs and I'm going to settle down with a nice beta or alpha male, or, you know, Chad, and you'll make your parents proud and mine might start speaking to me again, and that'll be the end of it."

"And that's that?" Tom asked.

"That's that," Jared said, as kindly as he could.

  
  


****

Jensen checked the knots around his ankles. He'd had to run the rope beneath the mattress. Damn hotel beds had nothing to tie onto. He bound himself secure enough that he couldn't thrash out of it, but loose enough that he could get free when he was lucid again. He stuck his knife in its thick leather sheath beneath his pillow. With the door locked and warded in wolfsbane and the sun shining merrily on the other side of the thick brown curtains, he started the harsh process of sweating out the drug.

If he had his preferences, he'd stay on it all the time, always know how to tell a monster from a human. His body, however, had other plans. He'd been lucky to finish cleaning up at the Curlicue. By the end, he wasn't sure if he was on his knees scrubbing the floor because it was a better way to get the blood up or because it hurt too much to stand. If he didn't detox every twenty-four hours, symptoms ranging from cramps so harsh he screamed if he tried to arrange his body in anything but a fetal position to vomiting that projectiled itself across a room hard enough to break the sound barrier attacked him and left him as weak as a baby once they passed. Recovery could lose him days--days in which the Alpha could track him or move on as it pleased. Hard to tell sometimes who was chasing who.

Detoxing was no picnic either. But it was over in hours versus days, and if he timed it right, he could keep the symptoms down. He couldn't stop the hallucinations that came with it, but the part he found hardest to tolerate was the leveling moment when everyone became the same; first monster, then human, and he couldn't tell which was which, filled by a vengeful rage at the first and abiding fear at the second, struggling with his gut feeling against what his senses were telling him. _YOU ARE SAFE. NO MONSTERS HERE. SAFE. SAFE. SAFE._ For this reason, he locked himself away to detox, lest he accidentally kill a human or that a wolf might slip beneath his mind and take its revenge for the hundreds of its kind he'd slaughtered since he first picked up his knife.

The first etchings of a headache made an appearance beneath his temples. Reaching for the first of several opened bottles of water on the nightstand, he chugged it halfway down. It did nothing to ease his parched throat. He set the bottle down, only shaking slightly, and braced himself as the first wave of nausea struck. He blinked through it, and another. After checking the knots again--he could never check too much--he laid back as his vision blurred. With his only comforts the solid feeling of his knife beneath his head and the knowledge that this could be so much worse, he looked toward the swirling ceiling and succumbed to the process.

  
  


****

Tom tucked his long legs underneath him on the couch. "God," he moaned. He cupped his half-empty mug of hangover cure in both hands.

"Headache not any better?" Jared asked.

"Worse. There's buzzing. I just feel like..." He paused, mouth open and contorted, eyes wide in pain. "Like killing everything."

"Maybe it's, you know, your dad-- Your instincts, I mean--" Jared suggested tentatively.

"I'm not killing my dad." Tom shot him a glare. "I wish people would stop saying that."

"I know, I'm not--" Jared put his hands up.

"Do you know what it's like growing up knowing that you're expected to tear out the throat of your own father? He's my dad! I can't just kill him because 'nature dictates.'" He made the air quotes look like obnoxious parodies of all the people who'd told him this.

"Sorry, man."

"You're omega. You don't know what it's like."

"Well, excuse me," Jared snapped. "It's not like I don't have everyone telling me I'd better get myself a mate before I turn into a spinster and shrivel up and die, Mr. Big Alpha About Town."

Tom managed a pained smile. "Please. That's Chad, not me."

Jared took a breath and slumped backwards. "Well, I'm glad you'll be the one in charge once your dad goes."

"Assuming I'm the one to kill him, and that no one else kills him first."

"Your dad's a good guy."

"The best." Tom stared morosely at his knees. "I don't want him to die," he said quietly.

"Maybe he'll step down."

Tom's gaze flashed over to him, eyes full of heartbreak. "That's not how it works, Jay. I have to kill him. I'm twenty-five. He was twenty-two when he killed his father. I have to do it soon."

"Tom--"

Tom shook his head, warding off Jared's offer of comfort. "No, he's acting like it too. He's been a real dick lately." Jared nodded. What could he do but sympathize? "Nature sucks," Tom said.

"You could fight it," Jared said.

"Maybe that is what's causing this." Tom gestured at his head. "I've been fighting it too long."

"What if... what if there was a way--?" Jared leaned forward, ready to charge into the kitchen, to show Tom his herbs. They could be normal together, him and Tom. No more killing, no more living by instinct.

"You can't fight nature, Jay," Tom said.

"No, I mean, but if you could, would you?" Jared held his breath.

Tom blinked at him. "You can't be what you're not."

"But what if you hate what you are?" Jared stared at him, pleading.

Tom maintained his gaze. "Then I don't see that ending well."

"Yeah. You're right. Forget I said anything."

"I think this is helping the headache," Tom said, nodding at the tea. "Thank you."

"You're welcome."

"Of course, it could also be that Chad isn't here."

Jared's lips stretched into a slow smile. They loved Chad, they did, but a little of him went a long way. He glanced over at Tom, who was smiling too.

"We could, you know," Tom said.

"What?" For a moment, Jared thought he was talking about the solution Jared had almost proposed.

"Me and you. Be mated."

"You're my best friend."

"Yeah."

"I just don't see you that way."

Tom looked down. "Well, do you have someone who you do see that way?"

"No." Jared set his cup down. "No one. Maybe everyone's right and I'm destined to be an old maid."

"Well, yeah, probably," Tom said, after a moment of consideration.

"Asshole!" Jared tossed a pillow at him. Tom laughed in surprise and threw one back. From there, it was all out war until Tom called a truce in deference to his still hurting head.

  
  


****

_From his vantage point, Jensen sees feet. Furry feet. And blood-coated snouts ripping flesh. His mother's dead eyes stare at him, holding her silent warning that he should stay quiet and hidden. Another wolf growls into his father's corpse. His father's red-soaked boot is the part visible to Jensen. His older brother's hand dangles limp and pallid over the side of the bed Jensen hides under. Jensen could reach out and touch it._

_Something--he can't tell what--startles the wolves, and the one eating his mother howls. The others join in, and one by one they bound out of the open door. Jensen catches a glimpse of a silver tail. That wolf turns around and tracks back to the bed. As Jensen watches, the wolf transforms into a man. He crouches down and leers at Jensen._

_"Big to be hiding, aren't you?"_

_Jensen tries to scramble backwards, but he's against the wall, and the man... wolf... man reaches in and drags him out. He stares at his family's shredded remains, at the hole where his father's chest used to be, at Sam's missing cheek that their mother had kissed not fifteen minutes before. Jensen can still feel the gentle pressure of her lips on his own cheek. He tries not to let his gaze go over to her, but he can't resist, and her bloodied nightgown sears into his memory with the rest of the desiccation._

_"Why?" It's the only word Jensen can say, the only word that matters. It is the last word he will say for four years._

_The man shrugs. "Nature."_

_Jensen steels himself to attack, but the man strikes and knocks him down. He towers over Jensen, who lands at his father's feet. "Now that I'm not hungry, I'd like to play." He tilts his head toward the door. "You best run, son."_

_He grins to bear his growing canines. Jensen, shoeless, sprints for his life._

He woke in a panic, clutching the hotel's scrummy comforter. JD Morgan--he'd learned the wolf's name later--had chased him up a tree and trapped him all night.

_"Hello, Jensen."_

Jensen forced his head to turn. The girl from Curlicue's beamed at him.

_"Remember me? Leslie?"_

"Don't recall wanting your name," Jensen grunted.

She feigned a pout. _"Oh, my fault. Thought you might care about a sixteen-year-old you murdered."_

"That last word ought to tell you different," Jensen said. "Leslie," he added, pointed. "You and your dad are monsters. Your mother too, I'd bet. I'll find her next. End her like I did you."

Her smooth pink face fell. She tugged on her yellow dress. _"Trevor said I looked so pretty in this. He was going to ask me to prom."_ Tears rolled fat and round down her face. _"What am I supposed to do now?"_

"Save it for someone who cares." A wave of nausea sent him flopping onto his stomach, tied legs twisting. When he settled, she was gone, but another took her place. Crying, screaming, bleeding from the wounds he'd made. Jensen closed his eyes, listened to his strangled breathing, and did his best to ignore them.

_He's sixteen, dropped out of school, and prime suspect in his family's murder. The case falls apart when he fails every psych test they throw at him, when he doesn't speak. They stick him in a loony bin and he draws wolves and men and wolfmen and looks at the charts when the aides aren't attentive and sees euphemisms for "crazy" written on his. He gets out, homeless, penniless, and hopeless until a veteran he sits beside outside a grocery store takes a shine to his art ("I seen wolves too, son.") and puts a knife in his hand, points him at an oak tree and tells him to throw. He does, hour after hour, day after day, until he hits the same spot each time. Until he's ready._

  
  


****

Jenson pulled open the hotel's thick curtains to let the afternoon's sunshine in. Good. He could give himself a few hours "sober", get some work done, and take the drug again in the evening. He'd learned not to waste those buffer hours, not if he wanted to stay standing. The risk of being seen had stopped him from disposing of the bodies as thoroughly as he would have liked, but Jensen had done the best he could given the parameters he had. (Shut them in the cellar behind a stack of boxes and wiped the place clean.) Depending on how caffeine-addicted the townsfolk were, he figured he had anywhere from an hour to a day before people noticed they were down two citizens. Hell, they could have figured it out while Jensen was playing self-bondage games. From there, he had maybe a half day before a search heated up. A day after that and he'd come under suspicion as a stranger in town. It was an old song he'd sung a hundred times before.

He'd need to move the bodies.

For that, he'd need nightfall and to know the layout of the town. Where was the best place to disappear a pair of corpses? He'd seen a blocky two-story brick building when he'd first driven through town. He pulled his jacket on and headed for his car to make his way there. "Identify the library first" might seem like an odd rule in these high-tech days, but most of the little towns didn't have a web presence, and Google Maps didn't identify any road that didn't lead a person to the town and straight out of it. For that information, Jensen had to make nice with a local Marian. Ironic that he spent so much time in libraries now, but when his life had been normal, he'd done all he could to avoid them.

He'd been a piss ass student and damn proud of it. Now he had the fucking Dewey Decimal System memorized. Sam would be so proud.

The sun was high in the sky when he jogged up the cracked cement steps of the library. The main desk was right inside. Two librarians sat behind it. One older, one younger, both out-aging him by ten years. He walked up to it and addressed the older one. "Hi, I was wondering if you have town map I could look at?"

"Sure." She pulled a folded map from a drawer. It was frayed white at the creases. "Looking for anything in particular?"

Jensen offered a good ol' boy smile. "No, ma'am. Just passing through. My atlas doesn't tell me anything except how to do that, and I'd like to see some sites while I'm here."

"Well, you'll want to see the craft fair over at the Victorian House Museum," the other one said. "It goes on all weekend."

Jensen touched his forehead with two fingers, an imagined tip of the hat. "Yes, ma'am. Sounds fine." He waved with the map he'd been given toward an empty table. "Is it all right if I take this over here?"

"That's what the table's for, son. You let us know if you need anything el--" She was cut off by the cascading whoosh-thump of what sounded like a shelf full of books falling and a man's startled voice from somewhere in the shelves yelling "Ah, shoot!"

"Excuse me." The younger librarian gave Jensen a tight smile and hurried toward the noise. "Jared," she said as she got closer, sounding like an exasperated kindergarten teacher.

"I'm sorry, Paula." The apology that followed was delivered with a voice as shamed as an embarrassed child's.

Jensen glanced at the older librarian and saw her trying not to laugh. "Clumsy young fool," she whispered. Then, in a slightly louder voice, "Let us know if you need any other help."

"Thank you." Map in hand, Jensen took a seat. He sat so he could face the door and have an eye on the direction of the commotion. Eventually, Paula emerged with a young man trailing after her, standing so tall even Jensen had to look up, his Neanderthal arms loaded down with books. His face was hidden by a curtain of sandy brown hair that curled every which way at the ends. He looked down as he walked, shoulders slumped. "I really didn't mean to, Paula," he said, still sounding miserable.

"You never do, Jared." She stopped at the table and Jensen realized with some surprise that, despite ten other empty seats available, Paula intended for Jared to sit opposite him. She pulled the chair out. He sat without question, dropping the books in front of him. Jensen's eyes skimmed over _Tall Grass Prairie Wildflowers_ , _The Midwestern Native Garden_ and other titles related to local flora. "Now, please, try not to break anything."

Jared hung his head as Paula walked away. Jensen couldn't help looking, trying to see what was underneath those bangs that reached down to his chin. _You're not dosed up. Don't go trying to get into a potential wolf's pants._ His gaze zeroed in on Jared's mouth, his thin lower lip, plump upper one, moving in---he leaned closer, trying to read them.

"Is she gone?" Jared spoke without sound.

Jensen nodded.

Jared grinned and closed the distance between them over the table. "One of these days," he said, his voice as mellow and nuanced as Jensen had come to expect from the bullseye middle west, "she's gonna kill me." Being so close, Jensen couldn't help getting a good whiff. Jared smelled nice, not like cologne, but just pure scrubbed goodness, undercurrent of sweat. Pulling his map to him, Jensen gave him a good look. Jock type, but he was in a library, so maybe he didn't have the brains to match. Whether from discomfort over the scrutiny or to give Jensen a better look. Jared pushed a few strands of his hair behind his ears to reveal a Roman nose standing guard over a square jaw dotted with a dimple on the chin and twin divots on his cheeks. His eyes were brown, but when the light caught them, Jensen saw a flash of green. He fumbled with getting his map open.

Okay, it had been too long since he got laid. _Might be a wolf_ , he reminded himself, though his dick didn't seem inclined to listen, based on the way it knocked on his zipper. _And you'd have to kill him_ , he silently told it. He glanced at Jared, inadvertently meeting his eyes. Jared sucked on his bottom lip and looked away. _Christ, he's hot._

"How tall are you?" Jensen asked, and cursed his dumbass mouth. He couldn't have started with, "So you like plants?" No, on second thought, considering there were now about fifty plant books on the table, all Jared's, that was a stupid opening line as well.

"Most people say hello first," Jared said with a grin. "I'm Jared. I'm 6'5. Hello."

"Jensen," Jensen said, still gaping. "Six even. Hello."

"I'm not that much taller," Jared sounded defensive. Maybe size was an issue for him.

"I know, I just--" Jensen gestured along the broad shoulders, huge chest. "You wear it well." Fuck. Not a good thing to say in Podunk, USA. He glanced around, but the librarians were quietly engaged behind their desk. No one to take offense except Jared, who was grinning at him.

"Thanks. Well, except when I'm being a clumsy ass."

Jensen blinked. Jared didn't seem to have any clue that he'd been hitting on him. He wasn't sure if he should be relieved or disappointed.

"You don't live here, right?" Jared asked. "Or did you just move? I don't come into town much, well, except for here, so I don't always catch all the news."

"Just passing through."

"But you stopped in the library?" Jared's mouth quirked.

"I'm doing a self-guided tour." Jensen offered his standard statement.

"Of this place?"

Jensen spread the map out. "I like small towns. Might as well see what they have to offer."

"I guess you're right. You do this a lot?"

"It's off and on. I have to stop sometimes and make a little money."

"Sure, sure." Jared nodded as if he had a clue what Jensen was talking about, of the nuances, subtleties and implications of that statement. "Well, I hate to meet and run, but..."

"No problem," Jensen said. "Maybe we'll see each other around."

"Yeah." Jared gathered up his books. He tripped on the chair as he got up, but righted himself. Casting a red-faced glance at Jensen, he headed for the desk. Jensen watched his ass go. Even in the loose-fitting jeans, he could see the way it curved, the high arch and strong thighs. He forced himself to look away toward the faded outlines of the town map with its cute little triangle markings delineating the historical sites scattering amongst the wash of green that denoted the woodland and the yellow that marked the fields. But when the door chimed, he couldn't resist a last glance as Jared went through it and jogged down the steps.

With distractions gone, Jensen didn't take long in finding a likely spot to move the bodies. There was an unmarked patch of land not far from the town square but still away from any areas of habitation. It would do fine. Jensen would do a drive by to make sure, and if not, there were plenty of other wide open spaces on the map.

 


	2. Chapter 2

From his car, Jensen gave the empty spot on the map a once-over after he left the library. It was an empty chunk of grassland, abutted on one side by a wire fence that separated it from the grounds of La Mer High School and Middle School and by gravel roads on the three other sides. The nearest home was a quarter mile off. He did a test run between the road that ran behind the Curlicue (all quiet there; maybe no one found it odd that it was closed) back out to the prairie patch. It was almost obstacle free: one stop sign and a twisty path lined by trees the only things separating the two. It would do--better than some places he'd found to dump a body.

It was early evening when he walked into his hotel room, McDonald's bag in hand. He tossed it on the table. It usually took two hours for the drug to kick in, assuming he stayed awake throughout. He'd be ravenous after, so he sat down to eat two cheeseburgers to take the edge off. He folded the bag up to save the other two for later. Then he washed his hands and set three powders out in a ramekin burner. After adding water that he'd had blessed by a priest, he lit a flame beneath it and began the chant. When he finished, he drew the dissolved powders up in a syringe and injected it into his arm. He doused the flame and put his equipment away before the impact moved through his blood. Fighting through it, he clawed his way to the bed and fell on top of the ropes still strewn across it.

The nascent effects of the drug were similar to the last stages of detox, those moments when he couldn't tell monster from human, but they didn't come with hallucinations, and for that reason he preferred it. He gulped from the lone full water bottle left from his detox until the burn in his veins settled into a warm almost-comfort. Moving was still a pipe dream, so he settled in. There were worse things than porn pay-per-view and a vibrating bed.

After he'd burned through a dollar fifty and a screening of "Star Fuck, The Anal Frontier," he ate the other cheeseburgers and felt revived enough to tuck the ropes back into his duffel bag. He carried two--one for ropes and weapons, and one for his clothes and toiletries. Super embarrassing to get those mixed up, especially on the occasions he pulled the human kind of tail. Funny how no one believed him when he said he didn't have a bondage and knifeplay fetish and he wasn't a serial killer but that he, _honest, swear to God_ hunted werewolves and no, he wasn't kidding, and could they please stop looking at him _like that_?

He needed to label the damn bags or color code them or something. Maybe a string, but then he'd have to remember which was which....

His brother would have been good at that. Sam used colors to organize shit all the time. Even when he was little, he was always blue-shelving this and red-shelving that and _"No, Jensen, Transformers go in the purple box."_ Jensen could still remember every shelf in the playroom, Sam's whole system. He could still remember the mischievous glee he'd felt in dumping all the containers into one another, mixing it all up, to piss Sam off.

He used to love pissing Sam off.

He'd talked to someone once, a moment of weakness, post-sex honesty, told him that, and the guy had asked if he felt bad about it now. Jensen hadn't needed to think about it. "Naw," he'd said, putting on a shrug and his who-gives-a-fuck face and turned his back to do the 'Thanks but no thanks for breakfast' thing.

The guy probably thought he was lying, but he wasn't. If Sammy came back today, alive, Jensen would go right on being his obnoxious little brother because that was the only way he'd ever known to show Sam he loved him. It was the only way he'd ever found to communicate with Sam, by plopping himself right in the middle of Sam's schema and stomping around like Godzilla.

Christ, he wanted Sam now, wanted to mix up his plastic boxes and unmake his bed and switch out the school books in his backpack for copies of their mother's Harlequin books.

And then he'd squeeze the fuck out of him and tell him how fucking sorry he was. _Sorry I let you get eaten. Sorry I didn't fight. Sorry I hid like a little baby._

_Sorry I haven't killed the wolf who did it yet, but I got two of them.  Two out of three. Just not yours. Not yet._

_Sorry. Sorry. Sorry._

  
  


****

It was ridiculously easy to get the bodies out the backdoor of Curlicue's and into his trunk. He picked the lock in ten seconds and was on his way in five minutes. Another five and he was parked in the middle of the grass patch. Two things a man needed to dig a grave: shovel and beer. Something to dig with, something to get drunk with. Shovel in hand, and two Budweiser bottles caught between his first, second, and third fingers of his other hand, he set to work in the dark. The ground was soft from a recent rain and broke easy. Jensen had dug enough graves in his time that he was able to mark out an area six foot by four by eyeballing it. He cracked through the borders straight, pulled up the sod and set it aside to patch up the ground later. He worked his arms and shoulders into a rhythm and soon had dirt flying up faster than a burrowing badger. He hopped into the hole as soon as it was ankle-deep and kept going.

He stopped to empty one Bud down his gullet and tossed the bottle toward the car to be picked up on his way out. Wiping his mouth, he pulled his hand away slow when he heard a wolf's growl and the shriek of a bunny on its last breath. Jensen hit the ground hard, crouched in the hole with the mound of loose dirt between him and the thing in the woods. The crescent moon shown above, three-quarters full, not enough not bring out the change, not unless-- Jensen stayed down as a slow grin stretched over his beer dappled lips. Snarls floated into his range of hearing as the wolf chowed down. He palmed his knife and crept toward it. Three kills in one day... and tomorrow, he'd seek out the Alpha. This early transformation confirmed it: Morgan was near. The wolves were probably confused now, wondering what was causing their increased aggression, their fucked up cycles. Jensen could tell them a few things, if he cared enough to talk before he stabbed.

The wolf hadn't noticed him yet. It was a were, no question about it. Real wolves didn't lose their senses when they ate. It was only the greedy, gluttonous bastards that walked on two legs the rest of the month that acted like this. A real wolf would have spotted him by now. Jensen leapt on its back as it swung its head, a second too late. He slashed the wet snout, waking a line of blood from its eye to its nose. The wolf yipped, snarled, and shook him off. Jensen hopped up, planted his feet at shoulder width, and crouched. The wolf came at him hard, and he spun, dodged, and pushed the knife up, aiming for the belly, but it glanced off the wolf's ribcage.

"Come on!"

Another run, Jensen caught it by the fur on its back and tossed it. It was a thin, wiry thing, breath fresh with Thumper on its tongue. Jensen spat to get the taste out of his own mouth.

"You ever hear of a toothbrush?"

The wolf charged again. Jensen nicked its ear, took off a chunk. It reeled around again, but then stopped.

"Don't stop now!" Jensen held the knife out, teasing. He was invincible. "Let's do this!" He was He-Man, he was She-Ra, he was the goddamn Lord of the Rings and of the Dance. The wolf lunged. One step back, knee to the ground, knife hand up, soft belly found, twist, and done. The wolf landed on him, limp. Jensen shoved it off before it could bleed all over him. On his knees, he wiped his blade clean on the grass.

The wolf didn't turn back to human. Sometimes they didn't when the Alpha was around. Jensen flung it over his shoulders, paws on either side of his neck, and walked it to the grave. Its blood ran warm over his shirt and jacket. He'd dig the grave a little deeper to fit it too. Whistling the theme to "Three's Company", he popped the top off another beer and took a long swig. Sticking it in the dirt to keep it cold, he threw himself into his task. He judged the hole deep enough when he stood shoulder-high in it. The first light of dawn teased toward him--another reason to call it finished. He threw the man in first--rolled him, actually--and the wolf on the ground next to him. Then the girl.

She landed on her side and remained that way, buoyed by her father's round gut. After a day in the coffee shop's cold back room, her empty eyes stared up, white and useless. Jensen had hardened himself to killing the young ones back when he'd been young. Maybe that was why it didn't bother him so much. It was a two-way street devoid of pity. Still, he had to look away as he tossed the first shovel of dirt over her pale legs. The hallucination sprang fresh to his mind of a tearful girl in a pretty yellow dress wanting to impress a boy. Biting down against empathy for a monster--he'd lost his youth because of a monster, and this girl was a monster--he flung the dirt down and down and down until they were all covered up and he could slow down and breathe again. He finished filling in the dirt, tamped it down and spread out what wouldn't fit as best he could before laying the sod back down. He packed it as flat as he could, then stood off a few yards to test the level of it against the rest of the plain.

It would do. He dusted the dirt off his jeans. Standing behind his car with the trunk open, he changed his shirt and rolled his bloodied jacket and T-shirt up and stuffed them into a plastic bag, which he wedged behind the spare tire. Then, he walked back to the front, grabbed up his beer bottles and caps, and got in the car. He tossed them in the footwell and idled the car over to the road. He kept his lights off until he reached the intersection, then coaxed it into gear and eased back to life. The trip back to the hotel, he cranked up a cracked cassette of Run DMC in his radio, pushed the windows down, and yelled along. The words fell rapid-fire out of his mouth, natural as his own speech. Adrenaline pushed through his veins. He probably wouldn't sleep the few hours he had before morning, but screw it. He felt good, great, and until he crashed, he'd hold onto that feeling with all he had.

  
  


****

There was a restaurant directly across the town square to the Curlicue, and that was where Jensen took up residence in the morning. It was the kind of small town special Jensen saw in almost every town, a place with _homestyle cooking_ that didn't need quotes around it because it actually was someone's mom in the back hand-making meat loaves, and her daughter delivering them, and her husband manning the cash register. These places valued function over form, so any thought put into decor, if there was any thought at all, was secondary to quick service, double portions, and guaranteeing everyone left with a smile and a full belly. The furnishings at the creatively named La Mer Square Restaurant consisted of the sort commonly found in school cafeterias--garish orange plastic chairs and tables in laminate white that could, with the pull of a pin, fold up their metal legs and be stacked away. The vinyl floral tablecloths did nothing to dissipate the image, but the blackberry buckle was warm and the view was unobstructed, so Jensen couldn't think of a reason to complain.

Well, except for two. His waitress was a werewolf. And the hostess. Was there an affirmative action on hiring wolves as hospitality staff in this town? He couldn't kill anyone here with the other patrons acting like the waitress walked on water for delivering plates of the Sunday Special (pancakes big as the plate, eggs "done as you like" and four strips of fatty bacon). He shoved his white mug to the end of his table, as far away as he could get it so she'd keep her distance while topping him up with the hot coffee. He grunted when she asked how he was doing and ignored her after that until she left him alone. The hostess stayed at her position near the door, but he kept on eye on her anyway. So what if she looked thirteen? He'd put down younger.

Looked all quiet across the square. Curlicue Coffee Shop remained shuttered. A few people walked the square in track pants, the morning traffic consisted of a steady line of pick up trucks and minivans circling the square to exit mostly out the south side, which, according to Jensen's map, led to the interstate thirty miles away and, more locally and probably more likely for a Sunday, five of the town's ten churches. No one even slowed down to wonder why Curlicue was closed. A shadow dropped over Jensen's table. At first, he thought the sun had gone behind a cloud, but then a cheerful voice said, "Jensen, right?" and Jensen looked up to see the sun was inside and beaming at him through Jared's guileless smile.

Jensen forced himself to listen to his body before he responded, even though Jared had a smile that he wanted to dive into. His veins stayed quiet, his tongue stayed moist. That was all he needed. Jared wasn't a werewolf. Praise ye gods. "Hey. You want to sit down?"

"Sure."

Jensen took advantage of Jared's distraction in pulling out the plastic chair to appreciate the way his gray T-shirt stretched over his chest. Now that the wolf question was out of the way, Jensen was ready to let his horndog flag fly.

"Thanks," Jared said. "I'm supposed to meet my friend here, but I guess he's running late."

"How late?"

"Twenty minutes?" Jared said. He didn't sound sure. "He might have had to work. He's not very good at calling."

"Well, he sounds like he sucks," Jensen said cheerfully. He stabbed another heaping forkful of his buckle. "This is delicious." He spoke with tongue wrapped in sweet-tart goo, not caring that someone, somewhere, had told him not to talk with his mouth full. Pointing at it with his fork, he added, "You should get this."

"I usually get the special." Jared smiled. "The pancakes are awesome."

Jensen closed his eyes to savor the remains on his tongue. "Mmm."

Jared cleared his throat. Jensen opened his eyes to see him grinning. "You really like food."

"Small pleasures, man." Sighing in ecstasy, he took another bite. Times like this, he didn't want to know if the woman he kept catching glimpses of through the kitchen's swinging doors was a wolf. Times like this, he wanted to pretend that she was just a sweet middle-aged lady who liked baking pies and keeping people happy. For that reason, that weakness, he'd go back and thank her later, get close enough to her to let the drug do its magic on him. Because he couldn't afford to be soft like this. He'd have his pie now, and if she was a wolf, he'd feel sick about how much he'd enjoyed it later, and he'd cure that sickness by putting her down.

"Well, in that case, you should try the waffles," Jared said.

"So, how's your garden?" Jensen asked. He wiped his mouth with a paper napkin.

Jared looked confused for a moment, but then his expression cleared. "Oh, right. You saw the books I had yesterday. Yeah. It's, you know, it's a hobby. Saves money on vegetables and I grow my own herbs and stuff." As he talked, he sorted the condiments on the table, lining up the syrup, sugar, and tabasco sauce in a row.

"You cook too?" Jensen asked. Maybe if he was lucky, he'd get a dinner invite out of this--damn sight better than eating take out for the thousandth time this month.

"Well, uh," Jared's ears turned red. "Not very well. But I've got a strong stomach, so--" he grinned sheepishly.

Jensen grinned back.

"Jared!" The waitress hurried over. Jensen tensed when she gave Jared a hug, which Jared happily returned.

"Hi Patty!"

"You want the special, hon?"

"Please." Good god, did Jared give that huge smile to everyone? Jensen didn't feel so special anymore. He sat like a putz and hating himself for it because, _hello_ , some people just liked to smile and he shouldn't take it so damn personally that Jared was one of those people. It wasn't like he had lifelong designs on the guy. More like forty minutes of flip-fucking and a hand job farewell. _Yeah right. You wanted a whole night with him and his ass and eggs and bacon in the morning. You can lie to yourself but you can't lie to your dick._

"You know, thank you so much for helping Mikey." The waitress wolf was _still talking_ , and Jared was _still smiling_ , now with added nodding. She turned to Jensen. He sat up, trying to hide his alarm at being addressed, pushing it down along with his desire to spill her guts on the table with a twist of his hidden blade. "My son had the flu, and Jared got him back on his feet before he missed any school."

"Wow," Jensen said. He wasn't sure how he was expected to respond. "How'd you do that?" he asked Jared.

"Oh, he's wonderful with herbs," Patty answered. "Has a cure for everything. Don't you, hon?"

Either Jensen was crazy, or Jared looked uncomfortable right then. "You make me blush," Jared said, not blushing. Maybe it was just discomfort at the praise, but for a split second Jared had looked... terrified. Patty didn't seem to notice as she hugged him again.

"'I'll get that special going for you," she said as she hurried off.

"I bet Mikey isn't too happy with you," Jensen said. "Man, what were you thinking? Curing a kid before he misses any school?" He watched Jared's expression.

"Yeah, I should probably avoid him for a little while." Jared seemed more relaxed as he slouched in the too-small chair. His knees knocked into Jensen's under the table. Whether he noticed or not, he didn't shift away.

"So, maybe you want to show me your garden some time?" Jensen asked.

Jared looked pleasantly puzzled. He sat up properly, pulling his knees from Jensen's. "You're into gardening?"

"No." Jensen stared at him, waited for him to get it. ( _I'm trying to hit on you in public._ ) He darted his tongue out in a flagrant display of lip-licking.

"But you said-- Oh." Jared grinned. "Ohh.  Yeah, you can, uh, come see my garden." He put too much emphasis on it, and Jensen winced. Clearly Jared wasn't versed in subtlety.

"What's going on over there?" The father proprietor asked from behind the counter. Jensen started up to put himself between the man and Jared, even though Jared looked like he could take him, easy, but the man's finger pointed out the window, toward which every patron's head swiveled.

A police car had pulled up in front of the Curlicue and two officers were peering inside, crouching and angling in an attempt to see through the blinds. "They probably forgot it's closed on Sunday," someone said. Laughter followed and people returned to their business of getting stuffed. Jared, though, looked troubled. He checked his phone. "You didn't hear about anything happening last night, did you?"

"Like what?"

"I don't know. It's just that, my friend who was supposed to meet me, Christian, he normally partners with the officer over there."

"The one trying to open the door or the one lurking around the window?"

"The window," Jared said. "I could understand if he stood me up to work, but he hasn't texted, and he sure isn't over there."

Jensen reached across the table and dared to squeeze Jared's hand. "I'm sure he's fine." _And if he isn't, you will be because if he's the wolf I killed last night, I probably saved your life._

"Yeah." Jared's cheeks were red as he took his hand back. "Raincheck until later? I should go make sure he's okay."

"Sure." _Later_ should give him enough time to hide all the weird stuff that made up his everyday life. "I should give you my num--" but Jared was already gone. Nobody raised a stink when he ran out without paying. _Small town trust._ They knew he'd be back to pay it later. Jensen watched him hurry over to the officers. They spoke to him briefly, shaking their heads. From Jared's squared shoulders, Jensen guessed that he hadn't learned anything new. He signaled to his wolf waitress to keep the refills coming and kept his eyes on the action. He paid and left after they unlocked the coffee shop door. No sense sticking around after that.

He contemplated hanging out to see if he could slice Patty on her break, but deemed it too much of a risk. He'd do her later. Her father hadn't sparked his radar, and he still needed to check out Mom. Patty might be a shifter by bite, which would put her on the low end of the totem pole. The hereditary wolves were the ones to watch for, power passed down generation to generation, a genetic dysfunction, a sickness that those werewolves Jensen had known treated as an excuse to lord it up and act like assholes. The born alphas and omegas were those with the shifter line in their blood. All the bitten wolves were betas, stuck in the middle of the hierarchy so long as they went unmated, and, as far as Jensen could tell, pretty damn useless. He didn't take much pleasure in killing wolves like Patty, but the hereditaries? Hell yeah. He'd slaughter them morning, noon, and night. Didn't matter to him if they were alpha or omega. Granted, he didn't run into an omega as often since they tended to be more homebound, but he'd slice one if he saw it. After all, it takes two to make a monster. They were the kind that had killed his family. Had killed him.

He turned on the local radio station on his drive back to the hotel. "...two bodies found..." No mention of the wolf, but maybe the police hadn't released that information. They might have deemed it "too weird" for public consumption. No identification on the "victims", pending "family notification." He had to find the Alpha before the locals cottoned on to stranger in town + murders = prime suspect. With the wolves' powers getting stronger, he needed to do it fast. The closer they got to the full moon, the more those powers would strengthen. Bad ass as he might be, Jensen knew better than to try his chances on a forest of angry lycanthropes.

He parked in front of his room and walked up to his door. Something that looked like a small white rug dipped in blood lay in front of it. Nudging it with his boot, he rolled it over to see a small, dead face. It was a rabbit. He stepped back, hand on his knife.

"Morgan?"

No response. Of course not. This was a tease. Bastard liked to play with him, always had. _"You best run, son."_ Jensen tossed the rabbit beneath a bush that grew against the parking lot. He didn't run anymore. Now he killed. He'd have Morgan running soon enough. Running scared.

  
  


****

Jared's growling started deep in his gut as he drove the winding country roads that led him home. It almost always surprised him when he was angry enough to get like this. Christian's partner hadn't told him anything. In fact, he'd outright dismissed him. Mark could be a real ass when it came to "tradition", and his tradition didn't include an omega wanting to know things. "None of your business, boy," was the reply when Jared asked where Christian was. The kicker was, the bastard was a _beta_. He'd just been turned the year before. It wasn't even his tradition he was defending. There was nothing worse than an unmated beta because all they did was try to pull rank games until they made it official with an omega and cemented their "superiority" as a de facto alpha. Of course, sometimes it went the other way and they wanted an alpha, but those betas usually settled down a lot faster and with a lot less showboating. Then there were the rare pairs, the betas who mated other betas. Jared liked those couples, mostly; though when he was younger his parents had warned him to steer clear. _"There's a place for everyone already set. Those there are carving out a place for themselves where one shouldn't exist."_ But that was why Jared had liked them.

Mark's "none of your business" probably translated into "He's sleeping off a bender", but why couldn't he just say so? Christian was a beta too, but not an asshole. Not as big of one as other betas, anyway. Jared had stalked back to his truck and slammed the door after him. He hadn't even had the chance to eat, and now he didn't want to. He forced himself to slow his breathing. _You are calm, cool, and collected. Everything is okay. Assholes are as assholes do._ Maybe he didn't have the best mantra in the world in terms of being inspirational, but it did the job when he needed it to. And now, Jensen. An excited knot formed in his stomach. New guy, new slate, and, yes, God, yes, _human._ Fucking was one thing, but Jared needed to get his medicine right so he could ask Jensen out on a regular basis--assuming he'd stick around. God, so many assumptions to make! He was glad no one was around to see him acting like a cub in his first heat. He hadn't been on a date since, well, since that thing with Chad, which had been a stupid, capital S, idea, and he'd mostly done it because his mother had pressured him.

_"You're an omega, Jared, you need to find someone your age now before they're all taken."_

Screw that. He was just fine in his awesome cabin house alone, thank you. And he didn't want a wolf anyway. To risk passing this curse on to children--no thanks.

When he was a pup, running around on four legs with Tom and Chad had been the best fun.

Then he'd shifted back to human after one of those awesome nights and discovered the dead body of one of his fifth grade classmates lying in the middle of his living room.

"Me?" He looked to his parents for reassurance.

"My kill," his father said, too quickly, before sending Jared up to his room.

"It's what happens sometimes," his mother said later, tucking Jared's crying form against her bosom. "It's nature."

"I don't want it," Jared sobbed.

She sighed. "I'm sorry you inherited this legacy, Jared. But it doesn't have to be a curse."

From that moment on, Jared resolved to find a way out.

He was twenty-one when he stumbled on the right combination of herbs to stem his hormones, twenty-three when he stopped his transformation completely. Fortunately, he'd never had to explain his interest in gardening. His parents supported it as a proper activity for an omega. And, as the lowest on the totem pole, he wasn't expected to join the other wolves on the hunt.

Every so often his mother brought an alpha or beta woman home to sniff around and, after Jared came out, she'd presented him with men. Jared ignored them all. If he were a normal human, his parents would have been proud of him for all he'd done. Straight A student, Varsity lettered in three sports, early admission to college where he'd majored in plant husbandry.

Instead they snapped and yelled. At one point, Jared's father drove him to a strange house and tried to force him into taking a man twice his age as his mate. Thankfully, the man had been horrified. ( _"You said he was willing!"_ ) and sent them both packing.

"I don't think we should talk anymore, Dad," Jared had said, picking at his knees when his father drove him home. He nodded, and maintained his stony silence, as he'd done ever since.

Jared liked his life as it was. Sure, he was on medicine that he'd have to take until he died, but who wasn't? It wasn't any different than taking something for depression or diabetes. The werewolf curse could be controlled. He'd found a way. He didn't begrudge the others their beliefs, but for him, being human, actually human, was the only thing he'd ever wanted.

And now, with Jensen, maybe he could have it.

  
  


****

Falling for someone--don't do it. Damn sure that was in the Hunter's Handbook. The one Jensen had written in his head, anyway. He wasn't falling for Jared. First thing, Jensen only intended to be in town long enough to kill the Alpha or chase him out, and second thing, Jared didn't seem like a guy who'd take too well to what Jensen did for a living. He was more of the settling down type. He gardened, for God's sake. Jensen could hardly drag him out on the road with him, risk his life, and he couldn't promise Jared he'd come back to him, not when he didn't know day to day if he'd make it to the end of each.

But when he closed his eyes, he saw Jared's smile. When he tried to sleep, he heard Jared's ridiculous donkey laugh in the silence. When he touched his dick he... well, he'd memorized the way Jared's chest stretched his T-shirt so tight they perked his nipples, leave it at that.

He just hadn't gotten laid in a while. That was all it was. So what if he jacked off thinking about Jared? Wasn't the first time. Every town had a hot guy. Just Jensen's luck he managed to run into so many of them. He ought to start keeping a tally, keep his fantasies straight. But those guys had all been uber confident (and mostly straight), and sometimes acted like Jensen had come to town to steal their women. He didn't like fighting other people--waste of time and energy, but when he did, he put them down fast. Left blood and broken noses in his wake. It was a fine way to get himself rushed out of a town ahead of schedule.

He tried not to think about how he might have killed the Alpha already if not for temper tantrums and asshole posturing from liquored up frat boys. There was one time, few years back, when he was so close, in town before the weres had started acting weird, before the Alpha had turned up his charm, and he got run out of town by a pair of asshats who thought he'd taken their pride in some way he was never clear on. Leaving them bleeding and screaming maybe hadn't been the best reaction to that, but Jensen had always struggled with seeing the long run play. Hit first, ask questions never. It worked for him, most times.

The drug came into it when he was twenty-five, courtesy of a witch named Danni. Best one night stand he'd ever had, and they hadn't even fucked. They just stayed up all night talking magic and "What if we could..." "If there was a way..." and figuring shit out. It was a mix of this and that, powders ground down from roots with weird names, mostly, shit he'd get arrested for having because they violated customs laws. The first time he took the drug, nothing had happened except the pain. The second time was the kicker. Wolves everywhere. Thankfully, he had sense enough to know how unlikely that was. (And Danni there too.) Third time did it. Balanced it out. From there it was trial and painful, painful error that made him realize he needed to detox every twenty four hours and give himself time off it for a few hours before dosing up again. He tried to keep to his schedule. Over a full-moon, he could reduce it because the wolves' hormones were so jumpy then that his drug would react to them even on a half-dose. And, he knew the Alpha was near when his reactions increased, because their hormone levels rose even without the moon beckoning them out. It was a win-win situation. Made hunting so much easier. Made life easier, really, and it kept his hope alive that he would win this. He would succeed and avenge his family.

  
  


****

"Fucking boll weevils." Jared stared in dismay at his garden tomatoes and the little critters happily chomping through them. He'd spent the morning reading his new books, and now was taking a break to tend his garden. He stomped toward his garden shed and came back armed with a spray bottle. "Fuck organic," he muttered, and started his attack. The weevils fell away. For good measure, he soaked them into the ground and then sprayed his lettuce and cabbage as well. He double-checked the wire cages that was supposed to keep the rabbits out and found that something had been digging around the radishes. Stomping the wire back into the ground, he next shoved more dirt in around it.

He heard a car rumble up the long drive, wending its way through the trees that framed either side of the gravel. He stood up and wiped his hands clean on his jeans as he waited for it to come into view. When he caught a glimpse of the blue and red bar on top of the brown sedan, he sighed and walked the spade and spray bottle back to the shed. He emerged as Chad parked. Jared motioned him toward the front of the cabin. With Tom, in uniform as well, stretching his huge self out of the passenger side, Chad ambled up to the porch.

"How are the rabbits?" Chad thumbed toward the garden.

"No problems as yet," Jared said. He hovered on the stairs, waiting to see why Chad had decided on a drive by. "You guys want something to drink?"

"We're on duty," Tom said, before Chad could accept. He offered an apologetic smile.

"I've got lemonade if you're staying," Jared offered. He kept his focus on Tom and ignored the way Chad stared at his garden, no doubt still thinking about the rabbits and what he saw as the ridiculous lengths Jared took to keep them off his vegetables when he could just eat them. Fortunately, Chad never showed more interest than this. If he had any curiosity about Jared's herb garden, Jared would have cause to worry.

"We won't be long," Chad said, turning back to face him. "This is an unofficial stop. Just wanted to let you know that Ed and Leslie Hooper are dead."

"What?" Jared leaned heavy on the wooden banister. It dug into his back. "Was it a... What happened?" For Ed, Jared would have guessed heart attack. Ed was three hundred pounds at a modest guess. He couldn't live off red meat forever. But Leslie was sixteen and fit as a fiddle.

"Best we can tell they were stabbed."

"What?" He felt hands on his shoulders and glanced up to see Tom steadying him. "Thanks." He let Tom help him sit down on the top step leading up to the porch. "What are you talking about?"

"It was Christian who found them. He shifted last night, and he was attacked."

"What?"

"The guy who did it was the same one who murdered Ed and Leslie," Chad said. He used his professional "Just the facts, ma'am" tone. It annoyed Jared every time.

"How do you know?"

"Because he thought Christian was dead. He dropped him into a grave with them," Tom said.

"Did he know who it was?"

"No. He's not 100% when he's a wolf, you know, and with his injuries... Well, he climbed out of the grave and a few hours later Dirk found him wandering around the motel naked with his gut slashed. He's in the hospital now."

"Oh my god," Jared said. "I was... I was upset with him today for standing me up. Oh my god."

"It's not your fault," Tom said. He squeezed Jared's shoulder. _There there. Calm the hysterical omega._ Jared shrugged him off as he struggled not to cry.

"Do you know where they were killed?" Leslie. Shit. He's _babysat_ for her.

"Ed's wife said they were at the Curlicue, so we assume there," Chad said. So that was why Mark and the other _not-Christian_ guy had been looking around this morning.

"You saw?" Jared asked.

"I didn't go," Chad admitted. "But from what I hear, the blood was ankle deep." His voice took on the excited cadence of the teenager he used to be, the kid who cheated off Jared's math tests and flirted with Jared's mother.

"Actually, the place was clean as a whistle," Tom said. Jared glanced at Tom, checking his reaction. Tom's face was perfectly blank. As the son and presumed heir to pack leadership, he was practiced at hiding his thoughts.

"What about the bodies? Were they--?"

"Wolfed?" Chad asked. "We pulled them out of a grave, Jay. Hard to tell what was wolf and what was mud."

The more Chad talked, the more Jared's stomach turned. "You think this sicko who did it is a--"

"There's a council meeting tonight before sundown," Tom jumped in before Jared could voice his fear. "That's why we stopped by. Everyone needs to be there." The "even you" remained unspoken.

"Okay," Jared said. He tucked his hands against his stomach to try to stop them from shaking.

"We can come pick you up," Chad said. "So you don't chicken out."

Jared knew he should raise his head, meet Chad's attention with a glare, but Chad had him and they both knew it. "Fine," he bit out. "But not in that." He pointed at the patrol car.

"Geez," Chad said. "If you're going to be a baby about riding in the back--"

"Trapped in the back," Jared snapped, still focused on the ground. "Which wasn't funny."

"Chad, leave him alone," Tom said. "We'll bring a different car." He stepped back from the porch. A second later, Jared sensed Chad departing as well. He glanced up to see Chad staring at him. Chad maintained eye contact and spat on the ground.

"We'll see you around six," Tom said, raising his voice slightly even though it carried just fine. Jared raised his hand in a half-hearted wave. Tom turned to Chad. "Get in the damn car."

With an insouciant grin, Chad obeyed.

  
  


 


	3. Chapter 3

There were a few friendly smiles when he walked in from people he knew well, but overall the reception was markedly unpleasant. Jared stared straight ahead and tried not to notice the elbow nudges and pointed nods in his direction as the were population in La Mer-sur-Plaines (which Jared figured meant 'Gee, we sure wish there was an ocean around here') noticed his attendance at a council meeting. He sat buffeted between Tom and Chad, hands in his lap, fighting to keep his panic down. He could smell it. Hell, everyone in the room could. _Terrified omega. See what refusing a mate gets you, kids? Freak of nature, living alone, acting like an alpha, screwing around with alphas, leading them on..._ Thank god Tom was his best friend and strong enough that he didn't give a shit about the unspoken thoughts behind their glares. Anyone else, and he'd have been force-mated years ago. He'd seen his parents. His mother had smiled at him. His father had pretended not to see him.

Outside the church's auditorium, a cheerful sign read, "Wolves Baseball Team Meeting & Potluck!! 5-8 PM".

Yep, the cover for a werewolf coven was a fucking baseball team that just happened to have fifty members. Despite the number, it was either the hardest or the easiest team to get on, depending on your were status. They played, too, in human form, and swept the league every year.

Tom's father stepped quietly to the podium and took a moment to arrange his notes.  In the anticipatory silence, the growls seemed even louder. Thomas Welling, Sr, was as far from the spitting image of his son as a father could be. People asked all the time if Tom was adopted, looking from the 6'7 inch boy to his 5'10 inch father, from dark brown hair, full lips and wide grin to balding strands of blond, thin lips and an expression of paternal amusement. "He takes after his mother," Thomas would say, and Tom would add, in his calm, carefree way, "I get my personality from Dad."

Thomas cleared his throat. "I come today with sad news. Some of you may have already heard. Ed and Leslie Hooper were killed in the early hours this morning. As yet, we don't have any suspects or motive."

"Are we looking at a hunter?" someone in the audience asked.

"Could be a hunter. Could be someone who hated coffee. We don't want to jump to conclusions."

"I believe I can shed some light on that." A man Jared had never seen rose from the back of the room and made his way, uninvited, toward the podium. He wore a faded jean jacket over a blue working man's shirt and scruffed jeans. It was a cacophony of blue. His black and silver hair rose in spiky waves from the top of his head to the nape of his neck. His unshaven square jaw sported the same salt and pepper in his stubble. As he passed, row by row, snarling rose all around him. He walked with a quiet, unconcerned smile.

"And you are?" Thomas asked, holding to the podium as if the man would take it from him.

"The Alpha," the man said.

"I'm the alpha here."

In a move so fast Jared didn't see it, the man sent Thomas flying. "Capital A," he said. "And don't worry, I'm just passing through." He addressed Thomas on the floor before casting his gaze over the fidgeting, angry crowd, "Unless something happens to make me doubt your loyalty."

"Who is he?" Jared whispered in the hubbub that followed. "What's the Alpha?"

"Didn't your parents teach you anything?" Chad whispered back.

"They told me to behave or The Alpha would eat me."

"Exactly. He's the ultimate, man. The big wolf cahuna."

"He's real??" Jared swallowed the urge to shout as his eyes bugged, suddenly feeling dry in their sockets. 'Alpha' stories put that boogeyman shit his schoolyard friends repeated to shame. Jared, in knee pants, had recited the darkest of them to his circle of friends, relishing how in the bright sun of recess they cried and shrieked and begged him to stop. It made him feel that much better for having sobbed himself to sleep in the scary dark where out the window the Alpha could be watching and waiting to eat a little wolf cub who hadn't properly brushed his teeth. Of course he'd hugged his friends and reassured them, taking them into his small arms like a little mother hen like a "good omega" should. _"It's only stories."_ But he'd been trying to convince himself too, and now it seemed he'd done that without reason. Because there He stood.

"Oh my god, this is so cool." Chad looked thrilled.

"If he's so great, where's his pack?" Tom asked.

Chad stared. "He's the Lone Wolf. His pack is every wolf and no wolf."

"What the fuck does that mean?"

"It means your dad better toe the line or he's--" Chad made a slicing motion across his throat as Tom paled.

Thomas Senior gained his feet. "Welcome." Then, through his clenched jaw, "Alpha."

"Thank you." The Alpha shunned the podium and instead addressed the audience from in front of it. His voice carried without a microphone.

"Ladies and gentlemen, there is a pest in our midst. Photos are being distributed now."

At that second, everyone's cell phones buzzed with messages.

Jared stared down at the picture of Jensen glaring up at him. He glanced at Tom and Chad as they looked at the same photo on their phones. This couldn't be right. The person in the picture, he was pure hate. That wasn't Jensen. Not Jared's Jensen. This had to be a mistake. Jared stood up, ready to let him know, but the Alpha spoke again.

"His name is Jensen Ackles. I ripped his family's intestines free of their confines. Ever since, he has been a thorn in my side. I no longer find this amusing. The time has come to kill him. Any volunteers?"

_He'd killed Jensen's family?_ Jared opened his mouth as the Alpha turned to him and grinned. He felt everyone staring. "I--"

"An omega?" Rather than mock him or ask if Jared was sure he understood what the conversation was about, the Alpha looked delighted. "Well, you certainly do things differently around here."

"Not that differently," someone yelled, followed by another person shouting, "Sit down, sweetheart!"

"I--" Jared said. _The Alpha ate naughty cubs, not to keep immortal or youthful, but simply because he liked how they crunched._ He tried to form the words he wanted. _I think you're wrong._

"Sit down, son," the Alpha said. "You might be ready to go to battle, but I'm not ready to face the mother of an omega I've let get killed.

"I--" Jared faced the Alpha, on the verge of collapsing from fear. _The Alpha was a wolf first and became human after he'd swallowed the blood of a thousand._ If he did this, he could save Jensen. Everything would work out fine. _The Alpha kept his awareness in both his forms... so he could recall and savor every kill._ All he had to do was protect Jensen until the misunderstanding was unraveled. "I--" he swallowed.

"Now."

_The Alpha could shift regardless of the moon._ Jared sat.

"Any serious volunteers?"

"I volunteer." Chad stood up, as did Tom and a few others, both men and women, all alphas. Jared clenched down on the bile rising in his throat. _I volunteer._ But he didn't say it.

Then, from the back, "Me."

Everyone turned, and there was Christian, dressed in jeans and a hospital gown. He looked like he'd had a run in with an angry lawn mower, but he was on his feet, glowering, long hair dirt-streaked and hanging over a fresh wound that ran from his eye to his mouth.

"Thank you," the Alpha said, speaking over the crowd and directly to Christian. "I accept your services." Jared tried not to panic. The stories his parents had seared into his brain tumbled through it. _The Alpha, the Alpha, the Alpha... wants you to die._ He'd find a way to protect Jensen, to protect all of them.

  
****

Too long Morgan had stayed one step ahead of him, either in distance or by fucking with Jensen's life so he had to flee. But now he was here, and--Jensen tossed a freshly cleaned and sharpened knife next to the others on the towel he'd spread over the bed--Jensen was ready. Jensen needed to find him, fast, and get the job done so he could ditch town. The wolf he'd killed the night before might have been more sensitive to Morgan's presence than the rest and shifted early. The closer they got to the full moon, the more likely it was that would happen again. Last thing Jensen needed was a damn wolf army nipping at his heels.

On the dresser, his phone rang. He grabbed it up as soon as he saw the caller id. "Danni, you old witch, how the hell are ya?" Jensen grinned into it.

"Not too bad, you cold-hearted bastard." Danni's cheerful voice answered back. "What's the what?"

He picked up another knife and started making it shine. "I found him."

Silence from her end, broken by an excited gasp. "You're serious."

Jensen resisted the urge to do a little jig on the tan carpeting. "Ninety-nine percent. All the signs are here."

"Indications of early cycle, tempers on a rise..."

"Yup."

"Uptake in murders around town."

Jensen remained innocently silent.

"That you didn't cause," she added.

"I'm cutting back on the drug, Danni," he said, clearing his throat. "Hardly need the stuff now with all the wolf hormone in the air."

"Be careful, Jensen. You'll let me know if you need more? I can ground roots up and ship them to you. I don't imagine you've got access to a secret stash in Bumfuck."

"Actually, I met a guy who gardens." He tossed the freshly sharpened knife down.

"Carrots and rutabaga isn't quite the same thing."

"He might have that, but he's into herbal shit too. Today at breakfast somebody thanked him for helping her kid's upset stomach."

"Breakfast?" Her tone took on an "ooooh" uptick.

"I was scoping out the..." He hesitated. Danni wasn't big on hearing the details of what he did. "...uh, the local pie selection and he walked in."

"And you hit it off immediately," she said, unsurprised. Danni thought that Jensen took his dick for a ride every chance he got. Probably because it was true. Sometimes for cash (guy's gotta live), but most of the time just for the hell of it.

"You'd like him," he said, feeling cheerful. "And if you ever meet him, hands off."

"Yeah, yeah." She dismissed him with the ease of someone used to it. "So, you're good on the magic wolf detecting potion for now?"

"I'm good for now. I'll swing by after I'm done for a visit."

"You'll 'swing by'? What, sixteen hundred miles?"

He "hmmed", a vocal shrug. "After this is done, I'm going to want a drive."

"Fair enough. But be warned, I'm going to give you the biggest hug you've ever had."

"You bet-- Hold on." Jensen looked up when he heard a knock on the door. He scanned down his mental list of knock types. The solid rap rap of a pay-by-the-day landlord looking for rent, the tap tap of friends visiting (or, in most cases for Jensen, a salesman pretending to be a friend), the frantic bang of someone scared out of their minds (usually joined by screaming). This was a hesitant tap, followed by another. He grabbed his favorite knife and looked out the peephole.

Jared stood on the other side of it. He rocked back on his heels and blew his hair out of his face. It landed back in the same place, right over his eyes. "Gotta go, Danni." Jensen clicked off before she could respond. After slipping the knife into his ankle sheath, he opened the door partway and wedged into the space he'd made, aiming for "casually aloof" over "I don't want you to see the arsenal on my bed."

"Jared!" His voice pitched up in a squeak. He winced. God, maybe his balls had receded from embarrassment too. "How'd you know I was staying here?"

Jared smiled, shrugged. "No place else _to_ stay. It's La Mer-Inn or bust for a thirty mile radius."

"Oh." Jensen couldn't argue that.

"So--" Jared rocked again.

"So...?" Jensen said.

"Pizza?" Jensen asked, at the same time Jared blurted, "Want to go to my place and fuck?"

Jared blushed. "Um. I could do pizza--"

"Your idea." Jensen reached behind him without looking and fumbled around until he got a hand on his jacket. He stepped out and pulled the door shut behind him. "Let's do your thing." Shit, maybe Jensen had misjudged Jared's shyness.

Jared gestured to his truck as if it were a prize on a game show. "Your chariot, sir."

"Nice." Jensen gave the black 4x4 Dodge an appreciative whistle. "But I'd prefer taking my own car."

Jared fidgeted. He looked uncomfortable with the idea of Jensen driving himself. "I really don't mind--"

"Jared, are you a serial killer?"

"No!"

Jensen gave him a half-smirk. "So, you don't need to make me disappear without a trace?"

A longer pause before Jared denied this. Jensen pinned it to embarrassment, since he was bright red.

"Then I'm taking my own car."

"But, but, but," Jared spluttered. "It's not right for you to drive yourself!"

_What?_ "Jared. This is not 1950 and I am not wearing bobby socks. Now come on. I'll follow you home." He hoped Jared wouldn't suggest that they fuck in Jensen's room instead. He'd need more than a minute to make the place respectable in that "I'm not a serial killer, honest" kind of way.

"Okay." Jared seemed to find some resolve with Jensen's standing up for his right to drive his damn self, but he didn't look happy about it. He fumbled for his car handle. "Stay close, all right? I live way out in the country." His expression turned sheepish. "Not that you have to go very far to qualify for that around here."

"Will do." Jensen grinned and swung himself into his own car. He revved it up and followed Jared out.

  
  


****

Jared kept both hands on the wheel and tapped it with his pinky fingers for most of the drive. He kept a close eye on the rear view mirror to make sure Jensen stayed with him. Jensen's cream-colored VW bug bounced along behind. Maybe it wasn't the brightest idea to bring Jensen to his house, but it was the safest place he could think of to hide him. Everyone would be staking out the motel tonight. He wished Jensen would have left his car behind. It would throw them off. They'd assume he'd stayed in. And, with Morgan's acting like Jared needed to stay home and practice his knitting (not that there was anything shameful in that; he happened to be quite skilled), the focus on finding Jensen would keep his friends who might normally stop by out of his hair.

Plus, he couldn't wait to show Jensen a thing or two in bed. For all that he was nervous about everything else, his ass was all on board. Considering what he'd learned about Jensen (if it was even true), this was probably something he'd want to worry about himself later on. For now, he'd let his attraction lead him and, hopefully, keep everyone safe. Jensen couldn't kill anyone if he was occupied, right?

Jensen pulled into the drive behind him. Jared got out of his truck. The motion sensor lights came on to light the way up to the porch.

"Nice place." Jensen didn't slam his car door. He closed it quiet, with the same care as if he were soothing a baby to sleep.

"Nice car." The Beetle had some rusting around the edges, but the rest of it looked good.

"It's a junker," Jensen said, looking at Jared as if he wasn't sure if he was being mocked. "But it gets me around." He brushed past Jared as he walked to the porch. "You got any beer? I'm parched."

"Uh, yeah. Door's unlocked."

Jensen swiveled around to stare at him. "You leave your door unlocked?" He turned the knob and it popped open.

Jared shrugged. "Welcome to the middle of nowhere. I'm more likely to come home to find someone's left a pie on my counter than to find my television's missing. Although--" He winced.

"What?" Jensen looked ready to fight whatever threat Jared was about to reveal had made its way into his home."

"Last year the zucchini crop was really good and somebody left three bushels in my kitchen."

"Oh." Jensen deflated. So there was an enemy he wasn't a match for.

"There's still zucchini bread in the freezer," Jared offered. "If you're hungry."

"Beer's fine for now."

"Suit yourself." Jared grinned. After a second, Jensen grinned back and stepped inside the cabin. Jared left him to explore the main room while he went to the refrigerator to pull out two brown bottles. Placing them both on the counter, he went into the bathroom to freshen up. Jensen hadn't made any sign that he wanted to get straight to the sex, so after a quick shower, Jared pulled his jeans and shirt back on.

Jared couldn't make the first move--it was a battle against his nature to go to Jensen's hotel and even suggest it--but Jensen seemed more occupied with pacing around Jared's cabin like he was looking for an escape hatch than paying attention to Jared. Jared finally gave up and sat down on the couch to turn the television on.

Jensen grinned at him when he heard the noise. _He was doing it on purpose. Jensen was a fucking tease._ Jared tried to ignore how that fresh knowledge made his cock heavier. "Why don't you come sit?" His voice shook too much to sound seductive, but Jensen grabbed the two beers off the counter and came anyway. He plopped down on the opposite end of the couch, but he put his feet up next to Jared's on the coffee table.

Jared locked his gaze on the television, only sneaking occasional glances over at Jensen, who had sprawled out and splayed his legs open like he was posing for the cover of a porn DVD. All he needed was a sign in comic sans over his head that said "Testosterone Cowboy" and he'd be set. He snapped his gaze back to the tube when Jensen caught him looking. Jensen probably thought he was a virgin. Jared was happy to play up the nervous, shy angle. No lie that he was nervous--nervous that his pack would figure out what he was doing and kill him. If anything were to seal the deal on his already well-paved path to Outcastville, taking a wanted hunter to bed _for his protection_ would do it.

"Well," Jensen said, and left Jared to finish the rest. Jared blinked beneath his unwavering gaze, feeling hot and flush from those dark brown eyes. If he looked close, he saw specks of green and gold. In that moment, Jared figured he could spend forever looking close.

"Yeah." Jared gave the best--the only--answer he could The beer bottle sweated in his palm. He licked its moisture off his lips and watched as Jensen put his own bottle on the floor. Then he reached for Jared's and put it beside his.

"I want to fuck you," Jensen said. He switched the television off.

Jared nodded. He'd figured--hoped for--that. Jensen on top. Inside. "I want... Yes. That." He bit his lip to stop the "please" from coming out. In his distraction, he missed the meaning of Jensen's hands at his waist. His brain didn't catch up with the plan until Jensen had pulled Jared's shirt over his head. Pulling Jared by the hips, Jensen got him scooted around so he was lying on his back on the couch, knees bent, and Jensen between his legs. The cool air hit his torso first and then Jensen, Jensen touched...

His fingers were beer bottle cold, and wet, and made Jared feel something that pierced warm and pleasant down into his core. "Uh." As he exhaled, his stomach pulled away from Jensen's fingers.

"Sorry," Jensen said. He left his hand to hover in the new inch between them.

"No, it's fine, it's uh." _Overwhelming. Need a minute. Your touch, what you're doing to me._ "Your fingers are cold."

"Sorry." Jensen licked them and returned them warm to Jared's skin. Then, as if he understood the real reason Jared had hesitated, he said, "I'll go slow." He dragged his fingers up Jared's torso, following the light brown treasure trail the wrong way. Jared swallowed as Jensen licked his lips. He flattened out his thighs and spread his legs. His erection strained in his trousers. Jensen hadn't touched him there yet. Jared figured he might die if it didn't happen soon. He didn't know when his urge to submit had been so strong, and this to a human. They'd just started. He shouldn't feel like this yet. With Tom, the feeling didn't come until Tom was deep inside him, coaxing up an orgasm. With Chad, it never came. "Slow as I can," Jensen said, a hint of Southern in his voice Jared hadn't noticed before, and so soft that Jared wasn't sure if it was a seduction or a promise.

"Please. Just. Just touch me."

Jensen didn't speak, just obeyed. He replaced his fingers with his mouth and kissed his way over to Jared's nipples. He stroked Jared's thigh and dipped beneath his waistband to rub his hip. Jared undid his button and raised up at Jensen's, "Come on." Leaving a circle of saliva on Jared's nipple, Jensen pulled back and stripped him out of his pants, taking Jared's underwear down with them. Jared sprawled out naked on his back. He kept his hands at his sides and let Jensen look all he wanted. He wasn't ashamed of his body, and if a blush burned across his chest as Jensen's gaze swept down his torso to settle on his ready cock, it was because he was thinking about Jensen touching him.

Jensen finally moved again--thumbs pressed into the pale divots between his torso and his hips--without speaking.

"Not a talker, huh?" Jared asked. Jensen grunted in response and stretched up to kiss him. "Okay." Jared spread his fingers over the back of Jensen's head. Talking around Jensen's mouth, he said, "I can deal with that." Then Jensen wrapped his hand firm around Jared's cock, pushed his tongue into Jared's mouth, and Jared forgot about talking.

Jared was hard as hell when Jensen got around to pushing a finger into him. He went in strong, no hesitation. He didn't spit on it until he added a second, and didn't ask "That alright?" until the third was going in and Jared had flung his knees over Jensen's shoulders to give himself more leverage to push on Jensen's hand, pull him deeper.

"Yeah." Jared offered up the unnecessary answer. "Please. More. Jensen. More." Jensen caught him by the hair. Jared moaned when Jensen's teeth tickled his ear.

Jensen pulled away to tear open the condom packet that he'd plucked from his back pocket. "You got any lube or you want me to take you on spit?" Jared's arousal surged at the confidence in Jensen's voice. _He's done this before, taken someone like this before. Rough and strong, no questions._

Jared watched him roll the condom on. He was still fully dressed, including his jacket and his boots. He'd opened his pants enough to get his cock out. Jared wanted him too much to care that all Jensen needed to do to pull a runner would be to zip up on his way out. But he grabbed Jensen's wrist just in case. "Lube on the condom's enough."

"Huh." Jensen pulled away. Jared scanned his face for disapproval, but found a cross of amusement and lust instead. "I'm guessing I was wrong thinking you were a virgin."

"I like to feel it." Jared figured a half truth was better than the whole. Telling Jensen his omega body helped ease the way when he was aroused--wolves didn't stop for foreplay--might be a mood killer, and, if what was said about Jensen was true, a Jared killer as well. And besides that, he did like a cock to stretch him, and he was curious how Jensen would feel inside him.

"Rough, huh?" Jensen's voice dropped so low Jared felt the rumble in his stomach.

Jared pulled Jensen into his arms. He reached between them for Jensen's cock. "Come on." He lined Jensen up. "Come on. Want you."

"Need me?" Jensen asked, teasing.

"Need you," Jared affirmed. He didn't breathe again until Jensen took him. Jensen thrust into him hard, fingers digging into Jared's hips. Jared imagined how it would be later, when he'd look in the mirror and fit his larger hands into pink fingerprints. He grabbed another kiss from Jensen. Jensen fucked him deep, hard, forcing gasps out of Jared as Jared's cock scraped beads of pre-come off on Jensen's belly. Their lips parted. Jared breathed, "Yes" into Jensen's mouth. "Like that." He was right--Jensen was rough and strong with him, but tender too, gentle with his calloused hands like Jared hadn't expected.

Jensen clamped his teeth down on Jared's shoulder. It was so much like a mating bite that Jared didn't know if he should struggle against the fire of arousal that welled in him as a result or bare his neck in return and offer his whole and willing submission. His orgasm stopped his decision. Jensen worked him through it, not slowing down as Jared's clear, infertile seed spurted stream after stream until it pooled on Jared's chest.

"I didn't even touch you." Jensen sounded amazed.

He stared down at his warm embarrassment. "It's um, it happens sometimes." (All the time, but Jensen didn't need to know that.)

"God, so fucking gorgeous." Then Jensen came too, inside him. Jared closed his eyes. He tried to feel the condom grow as it filled with Jensen's offshoot. It wasn't like with a wolf where it kept coming and coming. Jensen stopped pulsing after a few seconds. He kissed Jared's chest at the sensitive spot below his collarbone before he pulled out, gripping tight around the condom. Jared watched him walk over to the bathroom. He came back a minute later, zipper up, and with a warm damp rag that he used to wipe off Jared's chest. He teased between Jared's legs with his fingers.

"Go again?" Jared asked, only half-kidding.

"Later," Jensen promised, before cleaning him there as well. He tried to get up, but Jared grabbed his arm and pulled him down.

"Stay."

"Oh, Christ. You're a cuddler." Jensen sounded dismayed, but he didn't struggle when Jared pulled a blanket over him.

"It's the price you pay for fucking me so hard," he said.

Jensen freed one arm and flailed around for the remote. "Well, at least put the TV on."

"Sure," Jared said cheerfully. He grabbed the remote from Jensen and found ESPN. "Hockey. Now you don't have to worry about your masculinity while I treat you like a cuddle bunny." Jensen's hand reaching back and squeezing his ass surprised a shriek out of him.

"Not worried." Jensen smirked. "But you can leave the game on anyway."

  
  


****

"Oh shit." Jensen rubbed his eyes open. "What time is it?" He blinked his vision into focus and found Jared standing at the bar that separated the kitchen from the main room. He was stirring something in a mug. The kitchen window showed nothing but night on the other side of it.

Jared set the spoon down and walked over with the mug to sit on the couch. He'd put his clothes back on. Jensen tried not to be disappointed. Jared hadn't seemed to mind Jensen eye-fucking his smooth chest earlier, so maybe if he asked real nice...

"It's eleven," Jared said.

"Oh fuck. I have to go." He put his feet on the floor and realized when he felt wood that he wasn't wearing his shoes. "Did you take my boots off?"

"I wanted you to be comfortable." Jared peered through his unkempt bangs, head lowered, as a hint of pink touched his cheeks. "Sorry."

Jensen ignored what that sheepish look did to his dick and kept looking around without getting off the couch. "Where are they?"

"By the fireplace. Hey." Jared set his mug down. "It's later."

"What?" Jensen swiveled around to blink at him.

"You said we could have sex again later. It's later."

"Oh." He hadn't expected Jared to come out with _that_. "Well, yeah, but I meant tomorrow or something."

"So stick around." Jared pressed on Jensen's leg. "Tomorrow's only an hour away."

"Jay--"

The nickname made Jared smile. He moved over to sit on the table and pulled the blanket off Jensen.

"I have to leave--"

Jared undid Jensen's button and eased the zipper down. Jensen watched, uncertain if he wasn't moving because he couldn't (bound by lust) or because he didn't want to, as Jared pushed the table back and knelt between his legs. He didn't push the table far enough and ended up having to untangle himself. Jensen bit his lip so he wouldn't laugh.

"You're not even going to let me blow you goodbye?"

"Oh Christ."

Jared pulled Jensen's hardening cock free. He bent and kissed the tip. "I'm good at it. You'll see. Just promise you'll stay."

He struggled to get control of the situation away from his dick, which generally had no business being in the driver's seat. "Jared, you're not going to force me into a hillbilly shotgun wedding, are you? Am I going to wake up tied to a bed like in Misery?"

Jared's eyes glinted in amusement. "I solemnly swear that I will not do any of those things. I just want you to think about staying. It's dark out there. What do you have to do this late, anyway?"

"I'm still paying for my room," Jensen said. "I need to get my money's worth out of that trap." Jensen didn't mean for his voice to shake as he forced a laugh, but Jared's desperation bled off him and it was damned uncomfortable.

"Well, if it makes you feel better, pretend you're paying me." He took Jensen's cock in his mouth, leaving Jensen to connect his statement to his action.

Suddenly the situation had a new context. Jensen pushed him off and bolted up.

"What?" Jared asked from the floor. He'd thrown a hand backwards to brace himself, but Jensen's shove had caused him to bang his back against the table.

"I don't-- I'm not like that. I wouldn't use you like--" Jared thought of him like _that?_

"Jensen, it's just a game. Roleplay. It doesn't mean any... Oh shit." Jensen looked away as Jared figured it out. "You?"

"Yeah."

"You meant--"

"Yeah." Jensen still didn't look, so he didn't expect it when Jared hugged him. Jared had stood up and now he framed Jensen into an awkward embrace. Their chests were perpendicular to each other as Jared, bent at the waist, lay almost on top of Jensen's shoulders and pressed his face to Jensen's cheek. After a second, Jensen put his arms up and hugged him back.

"I'm sorry," Jared said.

"It's fine." Jensen patted him. "I know it's a fantasy for a lot of people, but--"

"No, I was stupid." Jared pulled away and started pacing. "I'll make you tea. I've got one that's really good for calming nerves."

"My nerves are fine."

"I meant mine," he said with an embarrassed smile.

"Well, what's in that mug?" Jensen pointed at the one Jared had been drinking. "I could finish that."

"No." Jared snatched it up. "I mean, it's too strong." He sipped and made a show of grimacing. "I'll make you something else. I've got fresh mint. Does that sound good?"

"Sounds perfect." Jensen slumped backwards, relieved the moment was past them.

"Okay." Jared almost tripped getting back to the kitchen. A few drops sloshed out of his mug. He righted himself and kept going. Jensen watched him rush around the kitchen. He smiled a little. He didn't get to witness domesticity too often, certainly not like this where he was the object of it. He couldn't help but notice that Jared continued drinking the tea that he'd claimed was too strong. When he went to the counter to accept his mug from Jared, Jared's mug was sitting there, empty. He refilled it with what looked like the same tea as before.

"Did you brew a less strong batch?" Jensen asked.

Jared glanced at it and took a sip. He came away with another grimace, which somehow made him look more attractive. "Practice makes perfect," he said brightly.

"Why don't you just dump it and start over? I can help you. I used to be pretty good at cooking."

"Waste not, want not," Jared said. He pinched Jensen's elbow as he pulled him back over to the couch. "That's what Gram says. So, you cook, huh?"

"Oh, yeah. I am a terror with a skillet."

"In that case," Jared grinned, "you are totally on omelette duty in the morning."

"You're on," Jensen said. He only realized when Jared kissed him that he'd basically agreed to spend the night. Putting his hands on Jared's shoulders, he pushed. "You're a manipulator, you know that?"

"I have ninety channels dedicated solely to sports on my television."

Jensen eased his grip and pulled Jared in for a kiss. "Then I hope you've got a spare toothbrush."

"Of course," Jared said. He snuggled against Jensen's shoulder, somehow feeling lighter than his size indicated. "I have whatever you need." Jensen hooked his arm around him. ESPN was still on and had switched to a soccer game. Jensen tested his tea. When he didn't burn his tongue, he took a larger swallow.

"Good?" Jared asked.

"Yeah."

"It's the fresh mint. Makes a huge difference. You know, you could grow herbs on the road, set up something in the back of your car--"

"Jared, if you're going to talk about gardening, I am fully willing to tell you to blow me."

Rather than look insulted, Jared lit up. "Um. You mean it? I mean, I can stop talking about gardening. I don't want to pressure you into--"

"Jared. Please get on your knees and put my cock in your mouth."

"Oh." Jared flushed as he obeyed. He looked up at Jensen with a small, eager smile. "I'm good. You'll see."

Jensen lay his head back, finding that he already believed him.  

 


	4. Chapter 4

Jensen walked out of Jared's bedroom wearing his boxers and nothing else. He rubbed sleep out of his eyes.

"Hey sleepyhead," Jared said. "Didn't know if I'd see you before noon."

"Hey," Jensen said, when he saw him in the kitchen. He was starting to think Jared lived in there, which was odd for someone who claimed he didn't cook. "I thought breakfast was my realm today."

Jared grinned. "Brunch now." He walked around the counter, mug in hand. Although he'd slept naked--they both had--now he was wearing a pair of cut off sweatpants along with a ratty T-shirt. "It's all yours." He slapped Jensen's ass as he passed him. Jensen caught his hand and pulled him in for a quick kiss.

"Same tea as yesterday?"

"Yep." Jared carried it over to the couch and sat down. He'd drunk another cup after they'd fucked again, and as far as Jensen could tell, he was mainlining the stuff like he was on an all-liquid diet. Jensen found a skillet and spatula that Jared had set out on the stove. He pulled eggs and fresh spinach from the refrigerator. As he prepped and cooked, his stomach twisted into the beginnings of a cramp. He was almost at his twenty-four hour point on the drug. If he didn't leave soon, he'd have to detox here or risk driving off the road. Somehow, he didn't think being in the throes of intense pain would do anything to endear him to Jared, especially if he explained that he lost control of his senses in the middle of it. No sooner had the thought crossed his mind than Jared cried out.

"Jay?"

Jared curled up on the couch clutching his stomach. Jensen shut the stove off and raced to him. Grabbing Jared's shoulder, he helped him sit up. "What happened?"

"Hurts," Jared said. He curled forward. Tears beaded in his eyes.

Jensen stared at his pale face. "Are you going to throw up?"

"I don't think so."

"Okay. Just, here, hold my hand and ride through the pain. Breathe."

Jared glanced up. An ironic smile touched his lips. "I'm not having a baby, Jensen. It's just a stomachache." He squeezed Jensen's hand anyway.

"Good. Because we would be really screwed if that were happening."

"Ha."

Jared was strong. Jensen lost feeling in his hand before he let go.

"It's your tea," Jensen said.

"It's not--"

"You've been mainlining it. Tea isn't supposed to be inhaled, Jared."

"Like you're such a tea drinker." Jared scooted away, seemingly through the worst of his pain.

"I know things," Jensen said. He picked up Jared's mug and sniffed. It smelled like a collision of cabbage and garlic. "Christ. What the hell is in this?"

"I like it," Jared said, with no conviction in his tone.

"Uh huh. Which is why you were gagging on it last night." Jensen took a cautious sip.

"No, don't--" Jared lunged toward him, fingers splayed in panic like he was trying to stop Jensen from jamming a fork in an electric socket.

Before Jensen could parse that, the taste registered and he spat. He didn't mean to spit in Jared's face, but he couldn't hold the vile taste on his tongue a second longer. "What the fuck. You do not like this. You can't."

"What do you mean I can't?" Now he sounded defensive, as if swallowing his gross tea was a matter of personal pride.

Jensen put the mug down. It was all he could do not to scuttle away from it. "How am I supposed to like someone who likes this shit?"

Jared blinked, then looked amused. "You like me?"

"It's just a saying." Oh shit. Jensen backpedaled the best he could. He hadn't meant to blurt that out. Even if it was the truth. But, liking someone was not an option. Not even someone as hot and perfect as Jared. He'd _laid out towels for Jensen's shower and offered Jensen a pair of clean underwear the night before._ Who was more perfect than that?

"You like me is just a saying?" Jared's lips quirked up.

"Jared. What the hell is this tea for?" Jensen tried to reclaim the conversation before it went too far out of his control.

Jared's face went firm and he stood up. He plucked the mug from Jensen's hand. "It's personal."

"Tea is personal," Jensen said in disbelief.

Jared crossed his arms. "I have a condition."

"A... oh." He'd interpreted at first that Jared meant he wanted Jensen to do something before he told him what the deal was, but based on Jared's dropped gaze, Jensen figured out that he meant 'condition' like medical.  Jensen didn't need to go there with a guy who was still hitting the definition of a one night stand. "Okay. Sorry. Hey, man, I can respect your privacy. Just... I was worried, all right?"

Jared grinned. "You do like me."

"Yes, fine. I do. But it doesn't mean anything. I'm not the settling down type." Jensen squared his shoulders in a way that he knew made him look more macho. A non-settling down type of macho man.

"Who asked you to? Jesus, Jensen. Jump the gun much?" Jared sounded more let down than annoyed, despite his words.

"Right. Sorry." Jensen struggled not to feel bad. _Eye on the prize. You're here to kill Morgan, not to fall in love, or lust, or whatever the hell this was._ "Breakfast?"

"Please." Jared sounded relieved to end the subject.

The omelette had finished cooking using the heat of the skillet. They ate quickly. Jared was fascinating to watch. He cut his food first and then shoveled in four bites at a time. "I have to go after this," Jensen said. It felt like ripping off a bandage.

"You have to?" Jared looked alarmed. "I thought we could hang out here."

"I'm sorry, I have things to do." _People to see, super Alpha wolves to kill..._

"Are you leaving town soon?"

"I'm not sure yet." _Depends on how long it takes to give Morgan a bloody send off._

"Well, why don't you just stay here?"

"Because I just told you, I have things to do." Jensen wasn't sure if it was Jared's question or the fact his insides were doing an unhappy dance making him snippy.

"Well, do them here." Jared was almost whining.

Jensen put his fork down. "If I could, I would. But I have to go. I have responsibilities. I don't usually even bother explaining this to people."

"So I should feel special?" Jared asked, with bitterness.

"No, yes. I don't know. Look--we just met. So, what you're doing here, it's a little weird." Forget the physical pain, now Jared was definitely on his nerves. It was a rehash of the night before. What was Jared's problem? No way he wanted Jensen's hot bod that much.

"Do you want to fuck me over the kitchen counter?"

Jensen blinked. He hadn't expected that redirective. Jared stared at him, full of hope. "Tell you what. I'll take a raincheck. I'll come back tonight and fuck you on whatever surfaces you want."

Jared didn't answer for a long time. He sat in silence so long that Jensen went into the bedroom to get dressed. When he returned, Jared hadn't moved. Christ, what the fuck was wrong with him?

"Jared--" Jared ducked away and wiped his eyes. "Are you crying?"

"You won't stay?"

"Honestly, this is not normal what you're doing." He cursed himself. Usually he was better at avoiding the clingy ones. Jared's appearance and dopey smile had blinded him. "Well, uh, I'm just going to go before you decide to chain me in the basement."

"Don't have a basement," Jared said dully.

"Right. Okay. Um." He debated giving Jared a parting kiss and decided it was best just to run.

Which he did.

His hands started trembling on the drive. He reached the motel just as the first wave of strong cramps hit. A few cars were parked in scattered places along the front of the motel as Jensen pulled in. He recognized most. There was a red truck he hadn't seen before. As he drew closer, his tongue dried and the veins in his arms burned. Wolves. Fuck. His body needed to get clear of the drug, but he couldn't think about that now. Had to figure out where that wolf was and get safe before his body's reactions put him into more danger.

"Got you." It grabbed him from behind and shoved him against his own door. He dropped to his knees, pulled his knife from his boot and came up swinging. The wolf didn't have a weapon, but it had a smile that started with lips and ended with a bloody stripe of slashed skin.

"Thought I killed you last night," Jensen said.

"Thought wrong," it said. Its stringy brown hair flopped in its face. Jensen stabbed and slashed before it could grab him again. He cut its throat and shoved the shaking corpse away.

"Hate it when they don't stay dead," he muttered. With the knife still at the ready, he shoved his key into the lock.

"Christian!" He jerked up at the sound of the howl. Goddamit, should have known that was why his veins still raged with the drug's fire. There were more of them. He spun around, back to the door. Fucking hell. One of them was huge. "I told him to wait. He never was a good listener." Its eyes flashed gold, evil in a beautiful face. _The bigger they are..._

Jensen sprung at it.

The other one, a blond about Jensen's height with spiky hair and a pissed off smile, grabbed his arm and knocked him back. Grabbing Jensen by the wrist, it thrust his arm up and banged Jensen's hand on the door until the knife fell free. Jensen scrabbled for the door knob. Suddenly, the wolf looked confused.

"Tom?" It said, glancing to its partner. The other wolf closed in. It, too, stopped and peered curiously at Jensen. Its mouth opened stupidly. Jensen took the distraction for the offering it was and twisted the key in the door knob. He fell backwards into his room. The wolves recovered themselves and attempted to dive in after him. The blond one fell backwards screaming. "Fuck, fuck, fuck."

"Wolfsbane, fuckers," Jensen crowed from the floor. "Tom" picked its friend up. Jensen expected that they'd stake him out now, but after a short, frenzied conference with a lot of yellow glares in his direction, the blond one picked up the dead one, waving off the huge wolf's attempt to help, and carried it back to the truck. Jensen watched the truck tear out of the lot before he stretched a hand across his threshold to grab his knife. He shoved it back into the ankle sheath.

With the wolves gone, his body settled back into the pain of pre-detox. He shut the door and  stood for a moment, trying not to collapse. Finally gathering himself, he limped into the bathroom and puked up his breakfast. It might be better to find a new place to stay, since they knew where he was, but he wouldn't get far in his condition. At least he had the door warded. He didn't know why those wolves had run off instead of waiting him out, but he was damn sure it wasn't a reason that would turn out good for him. _What have you gotten yourself into now?_

They might return any second. He pulled a chair up to the door and sat with a knife in his lap. He'd left his arsenal spread out on the bed, and it was there now, waiting with silver promise to slice and kill. The knife he held against his thigh was five years old, purchased at a pawn shop in an unmapped Texas town. It had a polished wooden handle with the initials "R.W." carved along the side. If he held it just so, when he twisted it in a wolf's gut, he could feel the carving in his palm. He had no idea who "R.W." was and had never cared. He'd twisted the knife into the bellies of fifty wolves. If the two from today returned, he would make it fifty-two. A cramp clamped down on his stomach like a fist. He surged forward until he was bent in half, the unsheathed knife caught between his thigh and his chest.

"Christ, fuck fuck fuck." He clenched his teeth so he wouldn't shout, and the resistance brought tears to his eyes. Finally, the pain eased enough that he could sit up. The knife lay flat, promise of harm unfulfilled. So sitting vigil waiting on the monsters' return was a bad idea. He was lucky he hadn't stabbed himself. _Moron._ Staggering to his feet, he made his way to the bed. With shaking hands, he folded up the towel the knives lay on, making a parcel of them, and shoved it into his weapons bag. His thoughts raced and tumbled, chasing logic--how long could he let himself be confined versus how much time he'd need to detox--and found contradictions and confusion in his half-formed answers.

Maybe he'd be lucky and they wouldn't come for him until the time he'd calculated had passed. He yanked the ropes out of his bag and tossed the coil onto the bed. Then he stripped out of his jeans. Detox was a hot business. Even his favorite, oldest pair of jeans tortured his sensitized skin.

He couldn't hold back a broken chuckle as he unraveled them.

They'd come, and they'd find him trussed up like a turkey.

And what could he do?

He set his "R.W." knife under the pillow. _Keep it near. Keep it ready._

He tied his ankle with the knife still strapped to it. The night before, he'd taken the ankle sheath off without Jared seeing, although in a small town Jensen had found such a weapon didn't raise many eyebrows, and he'd strapped it back on while Jared was busy acting like an obsessive weirdo. Now his fingers wouldn't work to loosen it, even if he'd wanted them to. A weapon at his head and another at his feet to keep him safe. Paltry prayers, but prayers nonetheless. With the faith of a man who believed only, unquestionably, in himself, he dropped his head on the pillow as the hallucinations and headaches began.

  
  


****

Jared sat at the dining table for a long time after Jensen left. He stared down at his empty plate. _You did the best you could._ Jensen was right; short of chaining him up, there was nothing else Jared could have done to keep him. Now Jensen was out there, free for Jared's friends to kill him or, if what the Alpha said was true, free for Jensen to kill them. At least he'd kept Jensen safe for the night.

Why had the Alpha decided to come to La Mer-sur-Plaines? Why now? The Alpha was a _fairy tale_. Jared had never believed in him. Hell, he'd never known anyone who believed in him, but suddenly here he was, and everyone was acting insane.

His crying out probably hadn't helped Jensen feel he could stick around, either. The increased dosage of tea was doing every bad thing Jared had imagined. Jensen, thankfully, had been asleep when Jared had dragged himself into the bathroom in the middle of the night for a long visit with Brother John. Nothing said romance like diarrhea. Of course, if the situation were switched, Jared would have been offering him water and soothing backrubs. Jensen was clearly an alpha. He was more alpha than the wolves Jared knew.

And what a connection he'd felt. He hadn't expected that at all. Maybe that was why he was taking this so hard. No. That was stupid. This was a matter of life and death, literally. If Jensen was Jared's match, his _mate_ , then he needed to stay alive.

Jared pushed away from the table and headed for the kitchen with his and Jensen's plates. He was acting like a moron. So Jensen made him want to submit. So what? So did Tom. He was omega. Submission was what he did. The best thing he could do now was find distraction for himself. In distraction, he would find reprieve from how sick the tea was making him, and in that reprieve, he might find the answer that would keep Jensen and his friends safe. He washed the dishes with focused thoroughness and set them in the drying rack. A few hours weeding in the garden should do it. Nothing centered him better than feeling the dirt under his knees. He nurtured the garden as he imagined he might a child one day, coaxing each plant into its best potential, a potential of promise, sustenance, beauty, and purpose. This was what had drawn him to gardening in the first place, and to plant husbandry when he'd entered college. In the garden, Jared didn't have to explain himself. He didn't have to feel judged. In the garden, Jared had everything missing in the rest of his life.

At least, he'd thought so until Jensen had turned up. _Don't think about him like that._ Finished in the kitchen, he put his shoes on and jogged down his porch steps to the yard. The air was brisk and crisp, sun bright. He dropped to his knees between the rows of potatoes. "Hey babies," he said. "Miss me?"

As he reached out to check on how his spuds were sprouting, his torso jerked. The motion flung him forward onto his belly, and his feet kicked out. He screamed as the pain reached crescendo. _Don't change, don't change, don't change._ Tears rolled down his face; he couldn't move, pressed in the dirt with broken bits of roughage scratching wherever he touched the ground. But he didn't shift. The tea had worked; the wolf stayed trapped inside him. _I beat nature._ He licked dirt when he smiled. It was still on his lips when he passed out.

 


	5. Chapter 5

"Chad--" Chad waved Tom off when he stepped forward, arms out, to help carry Christian. Tom kept one eye on the hunter's open door. He wouldn't dare come out now, but that didn't mean they could let their guards down. Sure enough, the hunter watched them from behind the wolfsbane border. With six yards between them, Tom could hear the dizzying pace of the hunter's heart. It was too fast for a normal human. Adrenaline, maybe, or a heart condition. Tom's heartbeat wasn't exactly beating at an easy pace either. He bared his teeth in warning as Chad scooped Christian up--one arm beneath his knees, the other at his back--and cradled him. One of Christian's arms fell free. It hung, four fingers pointing at the asphalt, loose and despondent. Tom stared at it. He'd seen dead people before; of course he had, as both a wolf and a cop, but this was his friend. This was someone he'd watched die.

"Get the truck open," Chad said, and Tom snapped back to his senses.

Now was no time to hold onto showmanship about who the head alpha was between them--not that he would have anyway--so Tom ran ahead to open the passenger door on Christian's truck. Despite being a half foot shorter than Chad, Christian outweighed him by twenty pounds. However, Chad's face showed no strain. Tom was running on adrenaline, too, hyped up with rage over Christian's murder and over the unmistakable scent he'd picked up from the hunter. Running to the driver's side, he got in as Chad pulled his door shut. He balanced Christian's body on his lap, nestling Christian's head beneath his chin as if he were napping.

Christian and Chad were always at each other's throats, acting like the whole pack didn't know they snuck off to fuck every chance they got. There was no need to keep it secret, but Tom had never asked why they did. Now Chad stroked Christian's blood-soaked shoulder-length hair and twined his hand through Christian's nonresponsive fingers.

"Get to Jared's now," Chad said.

"What about--?" Tom glanced at Christian, even though he was glad he and Chad were on the same page.

"Later," Chad said. His voice was harsh, angry. _Christian's already dead; Jared might not be._ "Hurry."

"You scented him too?" Tom asked. He peeled out of the motel's parking lot, hooked a right onto the road, and clipped down the highway heading for the turn off onto the country route that led to Jared's cabin.

"All over that murdering piece of shit--" He hugged Christian's body tighter. "Can't you drive any faster?"

"Without flying off the road? No. I've got the pedal on the floor."

"If he hurt Jared, I'll kill him," Chad said. "I mean, I'm going to kill him for Christian, but--"

"I know what you mean. Me too." He didn't want to think about what the hunter--who killed with his cold eyes and sharp knife--would have done to Jared. Jared didn't know how to defend himself; it probably would never occur to him that he'd need to. He chewed his lip, forgot his own precautions, and pushed the truck to go faster.

Finally, he spun up Jared's drive, sending gravel flying in the tires' wake. They spilled out of the truck together, Chad leaving Christian in a heap on the seat as they sprinted for the door. Unlocked, as usual. _No care for his safety._ The hunter's stench hit them as soon as they stepped inside. "God." Chad took a step backwards and covered his nose. Tom sniffed. There was a different scent too, something that reeked of sickness. He glanced at Chad.

"Find him."

Hard to displace a 6'5" man, but when glancing in each room didn't bear any results, they checked under the bed, behind large pieces of furniture and, with their throats in their mouths, the freezer and fireplace. Finally, when Tom stopped to drink from the kitchen faucet, he looked out the window and saw Jared.

"Outside!" He sprinted past Chad, who followed on his heels. Jared lay face down in his garden. Despite the chilled weather, he was exposed in a threadbare T-shirt and gray shorts that Tom was fairly certain used to be his. Falling to his knees beside Jared, he checked Jared's pulse. He glanced at Chad, who had stopped at Jared's feet. At least he'd remembered his shoes. Jared could be so damned tunnel-minded when it came to his plants. "He's alive. Help me get him up."

After they rolled him over (and smashed something leafy), Chad pulled Jared's legs apart and crouched down to grab him beneath his knees. Tom pushed him to sit up, hooked his elbows under Jared's armpits. Together, they hoisted him up.

"He's a heavy fucker," Chad said.

"He's sick." Tom didn't mean to snap, but he couldn't handle Chad's brand of dealing with bad shit, which was to crack jokes and say whatever wrong thing came to mind.

"Just sayin'," Chad said. His tone came out defensive and a little wobbly--not unlike how he'd sounded when they were pups and he didn't get his way.

"Sorry," Tom said. Now he felt like an asshole. In his panic over Jared, he'd almost forgotten about Christian. There was no doubt Chad hadn't, and that his smart remark about Jared had more to do with that than the fact that Jared did weigh a ton. Even with his wolf traits booted up to hyperdrive, Tom felt the pull on his muscles. They carried him up the porch and banged through the screen door. Jared's jacket hung over the back of a dining table chair. Tom had no problems imagining Jared hanging it there before he sat down to put his shoes on. He'd probably gotten a hard on for his carrots and forgotten about it. How many times had he sat in that other chair and watched that scenario play out, and then run after Jared with it?

"Let's get him in the bedroom."

Chad changed directions--he'd been headed for the couch--and picked his way around it and past an abandoned pile of boots next to a wire brush and a can of black polish to steer them into Jared's room. It reeked of hunter too. Tom shared a glance with Chad. _Goddammit, Jared._ They rotated so Tom was at the head of the bed and laid him down.

"Go get a cold washcloth."

"Sure, because that will make everything better," Chad said, but his dry mumbling seemed more directed at himself than Tom, so Tom ignored him. Besides growing up nipping at each other's heels, they'd been partners on the police force almost ten years. Sure, nothing much ever happened;. well, nothing that they actually needed to investigate. It was a stupid criminal who'd come to La Mer-sur-Plaines and try to pull anything off. If a werewolf succumbed to its natural urges, Tom's father and a few of the elders took care of covering up "missing persons" claims and assaults. The pack handled its own discipline. Tom had seen it divvied out. Repeat offenders were few. But even so, even stuck on speed trap detail, Tom and Chad had developed a rapport that was such that Tom didn't need to look to know that Chad was currently getting that washcloth.

Tom sat beside Jared and stroked his hair from his unconscious face. "See? I get to take care of you for once." He glanced at the door. No Chad yet. Technically, as the pack alpha's son, he could be as sappy as he pleased without worrying about his reputation, but that didn't mean he wanted to be sappy in front of Chad, who would never let him live it down, ever, not even when he murdered his father and ruled the pack. He kept his voice soft. "What did he do to you, huh? How badly do I have to make him suffer before I kill him?"

Chad cleared his throat. "Here." He held the washcloth out.

"Thanks." Tom laid it over Jared's forehead.

Chad backed up. He put his hand on the doorframe. "I'm, uh, going to go call Morgan, let him know what's happening."

"I should call my father."

"Your dad's not in charge right now," Chad said. He avoided Tom's eyes. "Morgan asked us for any updates. I'll be right back." After the pack meeting, Morgan had asked the volunteers to stay. Tom's father had stayed too, which was probably the only reason Tom hadn't felt compelled to give into Morgan's strange pull. No one actually dropped to their knees in worship, but the adoration in their eyes said it all. Thomas was disgusted, but only someone who knew him well--someone like Tom--could have picked up on it. He glanced around at the alphas acting like love-smitten omegas and tried not to let his worries show. Chad had wormed his way to the front and feverishly shaken Morgan's hand as Morgan smiled at him. It was all Tom could do not to yank him away. When Morgan had fixed his attention on Tom, his smile had lost its friendliness. "The heir apparent," he said.

"Yeah," Tom said, adding, "Alpha" when his father poked him in the back. "Yes," he corrected himself to the more formal response.

Morgan arched his eyebrows, now looking past Tom to Thomas. "Well, you've lived a nice long life, haven't you?"

Tom didn't turn around to see his silent father's reaction. Morgan flicked Tom's shoulder. "We all love our fathers, son, but that's no reason to go against nature."

"I never said--"

Morgan smacked him, hard. Tom's first instinct was to hit back. _Don't you know who I am?_ But he restrained himself when Morgan's grin broadcasted _I know exactly who you are, and I'm putting you in your place like I did your father._ "The pack comes first. Your father would say the same."

This time, Tom did look. His dad glared. To Tom's surprise, it was not directed at Morgan, but at Tom. He turned away, feeling foolish for expecting his father's support. They'd been too much at odds lately. He wasn't ready yet; not for this. To be fatherless by his own hand. How could he be ready for that? Maybe his dad regretted how he'd raised Tom. Maybe if he'd been a hateful man, cruel to his son and to his wife, Tom wouldn't have this problem. Maybe then Tom would have dispatched him years ago without a second thought about it.

Tom returned his focus to Jared. Good, sweet (smartass) Jared. Never any need to second guess him. He said what he thought, which was rare for omegas. Most of them never spoke up for themselves; Tom wasn't sure if they knew how to have interests. He didn't know why Jared was so different, but Tom was glad for it. Now, though, the hunter's stench was all over him. Tom scrubbed every inch of exposed skin, trying to get it off. He pushed the washcloth over Jared's cuticles, between his fingers, behind his knees, down his calves, and around his neck. Jared's clothes smelled too, but Tom stopped short of undressing him. Getting the scent off his skin would have to do for now. When Jared was awake, he'd strip him and guide him into the shower. He'd take his time washing him. He'd be there for Jared, for whatever he needed.

"Nnnh." Jared made a noise. Tom pulled back, but Jared fell silent again.

"Was that a good sound or a bad sound?"

Jared didn't respond verbally, but his foot twitched, then his arm, and then he began to convulse. Tom tried not to panic as Jared's spasms caused the bed to bang against the wall. He fumbled for his phone. Before he could dial the first 9, Jared stopped. His breathing evened out.

"Holy god," Tom said.

Chad cleared his throat. Tom turned to the doorway to see him standing there, arms crossed. "Morgan wants the hunter brought to the police station. I've volunteered."

"You won't get in past the wolfsbane." Tom rested a hand on Jared's chest to feel him breathe. "You'll have to lure him out."

"I've got a plan."

"Is it a stupid plan?"

Chad shrugged. "I guess we'll see."

"If you wait a little longer, I'll go with you."

"You need to stay with Jared."

"Partners, remember?" Tom asked.

"He might come back."

Tom nodded, giving in. "Be careful." It wasn't much in the way of inspirational speeches, but Tom didn't have King Crispin's Day memorized or anything like that. Chad would have flipped him off if he'd tried.

"Thanks. I need the truck to get out of here, though. I want to drop Christian's body off at his parents'."

"Yeah, take it."

"I'll pick you up later."

"Sure." He nodded like he believed it. Like he wasn't sending his best friend off to get slaughtered. Hell, Chad grinned like that wasn't going to happen.

They locked eyes; Tom wished he could think of anything else to say except "Stop."

"Hey," Chad said, "I promise I will stay out of harm's way. We'll get him. No bloodshed. All right?"

"All right." It helped a little, knowing that Chad understood his worries.  

Jared moaned again. Tom stroked his arm, wishing he was better at this. Jared was right--as an alpha, he liked being cared for, but he knew little about doing the caring. He settled down on the bed beside him to wait.

  
  


****

"Nnnh-uhh."

"You're awake!" Tom startled out of his own nap and reached for Jared. His voice broke from his excited relief.

Jared batted his hand away, rolled onto his side, and puked. Tom watched it hit the floor. "Shit." As Jared hung his head over the side of the bed, looking green but alive, Tom went to get clean up supplies and a glass of water for him. This was not the awakening he'd envisioned.

_Think of all the times he's done this for you. You deserve this._

When he returned, Jared was sitting up. He'd wiped his face with the washcloth, which he held out to Tom. "Sorry." He avoided Tom's gaze.

"What happened? We found you in the garden." Tom started mopping. The vomit was nearly all liquid. Its splatter covered most of the floor between the bed and the door. Tom tried not to lose his own breakfast as he cleaned.

"Something I ate," Jared said.

"Why was he here? How did he find you?"

"Who?" Jared asked.

Tom stared at him. "The hunter."

"He wasn't--"

"Jared. His stench is all over the cabin. All over you. Don't lie to me. Tell me what happened and I'll, I'll make it better. I promise. I--"

"I told him to come."

"What?" He must have misheard. "You what?"

"I met him yesterday and he was nice... I didn't want him to die, and I didn't want him to kill anyone, so I told him to come here."

"And he came and didn't kill you?"

"He didn't know I was a wolf."

"Okay. But why did he come?"

Jared turned red.

Tom raised his eyes to the ceiling. "You fucked him."

"It was my choice!"

"Well, he killed Christian, so your plan didn't work."

"I couldn't make him stay-- Christian's dead?" Jared blinked tears. "Fuck."

"Yeah."

"What about Jensen? Is he--?"

It took Tom a second to catch on. Then he swallowed his rage. _Jared was using the hunter's name. Like he was worthy of a name!_ "The hunter? Morgan sent Chad to pick him up."

"Ch-Chad?"

Tom felt a smidgen of gratification that Jared seemed upset about that. Still, it didn't stop him from adding cruelly, "I imagine your friend won't last much longer."

"Morgan killed his family. He's here to kill Morgan."

"And Morgan is here to kill him. So you're going to step out of the way and let that play out, and then everything will return to normal. Understand?"

Jared shook his head. "I felt something when we were together."

"You and the hunter?"

"Yeah."

"Something like--?"

Jared looked at him. "He's the one."

"He _murders wolves_. He is not 'the one'."

"I felt it."

Tom finished with the mop. He put it back in the bucket. "I'm going to forget you told me that, and you'd better forget it too."

Jared stared at him, hard, his mouth twitching. Finally, he nodded.

Tom sighed. He hated being like this with Jared. "Take a shower. You smell like him."

Jared got up without a word. He didn't meet Tom's eyes as he left the room. Tom contemplated going after him, but a few seconds later he heard the shower turn on, so he decided against it. If he'd taken Jared as his mate this wouldn't have happened. It wasn't too late-- Sure, Jared wouldn't be speaking to him, but he wouldn't be fucking around with murderers either. He forced the idea from his mind. Jared would hate him. He couldn't do that to Jared, to anyone.

Even if it would be for their own good. And that right there was the core reason his father was still alive.

 


	6. Chapter 6

Jared climbed out the bathroom window and hit the ground running. He felt better for having passed out and puked, and since he'd left the water running in the shower and he had a reputation for taking long ones, he figured he had twenty minutes before Tom would get curious. He made a beeline for the La Mer Inn. As a wolf, he could run it in forty minutes. As a human, he wasn't sure, but definitely more. He just prayed he'd get there in time to stop any more deaths.

He should have done more to make Jensen stay. Maybe if he'd passed out while Jensen was still there... And _Christian_ , dead. _No one should be dead._ He beat his way through the overgrown deer trails, thankful that Tom hadn't thought to remove his shoes when he'd put him to bed. Jared wiped tears off his cheeks. He wasn't cut out for this life.

He'd give up Jensen if things would go back to normal. Jared and his plants, the outcast lone wolf of La Mer.

His brain rattled off the list of the dead.

No going back to normal now. Only forward. He shoved through the brush.

  
  


****

_"Mr. Ackles. Open up."_

The wolves howled outside his door as he thrashed against his ropes, uncertain what was real and what was illusion. The knocking too seemed to come from the back of his mind, but it continued, breaking through Stania Parker's soliloquy about how she'd never had her first kiss because he'd killed her when she was eight. "Sixteen," Jensen had shouted, in his mind or screamed out loud; he wasn't sure, "You were sixteen." Didn't matter, though, because in his hallucinations, she was always eight.

_"Mr. Ackles."_

And now this pounding, and the voice on the other side of the door. A police knock if Jensen had ever heard one. Stania, in her white dress with black polka dots and red ribbon trim, stuck her tongue out at him and disappeared.

The pounding continued as the howls fell away. Jensen stared at the ceiling. Then the door crashed in. He reached for his knife under his pillow. _R.W._ As he sat up, prepared to lunge, his mind registered that a policeman stood at the foot of the bed, gun drawn.

"Drop it."

_If he was inside, he wasn't a wolf._

Jensen dropped the knife and collapsed backward.

"I should thank you for making things easy for us," the officer said. Jensen felt him tug the knife at his ankle free and use it to cut his ropes. "Now, if you wouldn't mind standing up and putting your hands behind your back...?"

"What's the charge?" Jensen asked, though he knew. He wanted the cop to say it.

"Murder, son," said this cop who looked like he'd just fallen out of his mother the day before. Jensen bit down a growl and got up to offer his wrists for the cuffs. "Goddamn drifters." He clipped the cuffs too tight, but Jensen didn't say a word. Another thing he'd gotten used to. Hey, at least the guy didn't bring race into it. That was a bonus, right? Not so bad getting arrested, anyway. This was the ticket out he'd been looking for. He couldn't leave on his own with the wolves surrounding him. But riding out with police escort? Sweet. He'd slip the cuffs and ditch the blue lights before the cop had finished prattling off the Miranda. He'd thank the guy if it wouldn't arouse suspicion.

"You gonna let me get dressed before you frogmarch me outta here?"

"You look plenty dressed to me."

Jensen glanced down at his boxers. "Come on, man. Have a heart." He winced when the cop tapped him on the back of the head. _Act like it hurts. They like that._ "Please, sir. It's cold out."

"Fine." He grabbed Jensen's jeans off the dresser, checked the pockets, tossed them at him. They fell to the ground.

"Hands," Jensen reminded him.

"Fuck. Alright." The cop bent down and helped him get them on, one leg at a time. Jensen didn't need his pants, only the distraction. He reached backwards and grabbed a lockpick from the bed. It had been on the towel with the weapons earlier, but had fallen out when he'd wrapped that up. It had poked his back during his detox. Now he pushed it into a slit at the base of his shirt, centered at his spine. First chance he had, once he was clear of this place, he'd make his break. He recognized the cop now; he was the same one Jared had run across the square the previous morning to speak to in front of the Curlicue. No wonder he'd slapped the cuffs on so tight.

The officer stopped short of zipping him up. "You ready now?"

"Can't go out like this. It's indecent." Jensen nodded down at his fly.

"You'll deal." The officer grabbed his elbow and dragged him toward the door. Jensen put up a token struggle.

"What about my stuff?"

Once the cop looked in Jensen's bags and found the weapons, he'd think Jensen was an idiot for pointing them out, but he'd take them along, and that was what Jensen wanted. He couldn't come back for them, and at this point in his depleting bank account, he couldn't restock his arsenal. Fortunately, he didn't open the bags, only grabbed them, and continued pushing Jensen toward the door.

Jensen did his best not to grin. _God bless small towns._ He was practicing his straight face right up until he crossed the threshold and the blond wolf from the morning said, "Gotcha, asshole." He punched Jensen's lights clean out before Jensen could so much as get off a smart remark.

  
  


****

In retrospect, escort-by-cop hadn't been a great plan. Sure, it had worked before, but that was no guarantee it would always work. And, given that he was currently standing in a cell with his arms chained over his head, he could decide with little prejudice that on this occasion it definitely had not worked.

_Should have looked outside._

He'd woken up like this. His duffle bags were in the room too, stacked in a corner well out of his reach. He tried to determine if anyone had gone through them, but they gave nothing away.

_Shit._

He glanced at the door as it opened. Morgan walked in. He hadn't changed much since the last time Jensen had seen him. A little more gray in his beard, maybe. "Jensen," Morgan said. As ever, his voice was low and warm. Perfect for a psychopath. "Good to see you here."

"I guess that blond wolf was upset I killed his friend."

"Well, yes." Morgan shrugged, a 'what can you do?' gesture, as if he thought it was beneath anyone's dignity to be bothered by another's death. On this occasion, he and Jensen were of a like mind.

"Why don't you unchain me, and I'll make it all better by arranging for him to join his pal?"

Morgan tutted. He flicked his wrist, and Jensen noticed that he'd come in carrying a long, thin cane. "We found a variety of interesting items in your bag. Why don't you tell me what those powders are for?"

"Why don't you suck my dick?" _Bravado gets you nowhere_ , but he couldn't help himself. Morgan had threatened him with that cane before, and now that he was getting his chance to use it, Jensen knew things wouldn't turn out good for him.

"Don't tempt me. You wouldn't like it if I did that." Morgan grinned. His teeth were all fang. "Now, you're not very good at labeling bottles, so we'll have to make you talk, won't we?"

"Fuck off."

Morgan lashed out with the cane. It struck him across the chest. Jensen felt the welt through his T-shirt. "Good. Deny me. I'd hoped you would." He choked on a breath as Morgan hit him again. "Oh, don't cry yet. I won't stop until you've told me everything, and I'm hoping that will be a long, long time."

Jensen spat, just missing Morgan's eye. "It's my beauty regimen. It's how I keep my face so pretty."

Morgan laughed as if Jensen had said the greatest joke ever told. "Very good. Now--" he tilted the cane backwards and looked merrily at Jensen. Jensen clenched his teeth. "If you're ready, let's begin for real, shall we?"

  
****

The four o'clock sun hung low, almost touching the trees as Jared ran. He squinted as the rays pierced the space between the leaves and streamed into his eyes. His ears perked with the sounds of howls. Jared's skin tingled, wanting to join the shift. It was still a few days until the full moon. This was the Alpha's influence. He fought it, ran harder. By his estimation, he'd had his last cup of tea three hours before. Between that, and the vomiting, his system was probably almost clear. He hoped he'd absorbed enough of his special concoction--cabbage and garlic, Jensen had said; the reality was so much more intricate--to offset his body's natural inclinations, even if he wasn't fully drugged. However, the growl that rose up from his chest told him he shouldn't hold out much hope that he wouldn't end the night on four legs completely out of his mind.

The La Mer Inn wasn't much further. Another hill to climb, a creek to jump, and he'd come up on the back side. He trampled over uncut grass and splashed through the cold water, almost tripping as his rubber sole slid on the mud and pebbles in the creek bed. Howls followed him, and then he heard crashing in the brush. Glancing behind, he saw flash of red fur charging toward him. What was Thomas doing tracking him? Surely he had other things to do? Had Tom sounded the alarm that Jared had done a runner? He shouted as the wolf leapt.

"Alpha! Stop!"

Tom's father landed on Jared's chest, and pushed him down. Jared lay on his back in the mud of the creek bank. He spread his arms and went still as his pack alpha stood over him. Thomas sniffed him. He pulled back, then sniffed again. Jared knew what the problem was; he didn't smell like a wolf, but he smelled enough like one that Thomas wouldn't just sneak his teeth in. He said a silent prayer of thanks that he'd just been with Tom. Having Tom's scent on him might stay Thomas's teeth.

Thomas moved off him, but he planted a paw on the loose part Jared's T-shirt, securing it to the ground as surely as if he'd had a stake and mallet because Jared didn't dare move. He tried to crane his neck to look at the motel, which lay a hundred yards away. Its rear view, unseen by passing traffic, hosted a row of air conditioning units and walls peeling yellow paint. A white laundry truck was parked at one end. None of these things told him anything about Jensen. He counted out what he thought was Jensen's window. The brown curtains were drawn. Giving up, he returned to a more comfortable position as Thomas continued to stare at him, lips pulled back from his teeth and moist gums showing.

"I don't think Tom would want you to eat me," Jared said. "Omegas taste terrible. No nutritional value."

Thomas howled. As he did, his paw eased up on Jared's shirt.

Jared took his chance and ran. He went full-tilt toward La Mer Inn. If he had any luck at all, he could dive into the laundry truck and bar the doors because Thomas had just signaled every wolf in vicinity. For whatever reason, Thomas had decided to target Jared. Now wasn't the time to second guess what he was doing; Thomas was already on his heels and this time he wouldn't be so kind. It was difficult enough for a werewolf in human form to understand Jared's life choices. A werewolf in wolf form would only recognize an aberrant who needed to be put down. Jared ran for the truck. He didn't have a prayer of making it. Thomas's wolf brain knew it. He'd slowed and ran wide. Jared glanced back where he'd come from. He could chance the forest again, but he was too big to spend the night in a tree. The truck remained his only hope, only now Thomas had positioned himself between it and Jared. Something cracked beneath Jared's foot. Reaching down, he picked up a branch. They'd had a storm a few weeks before; this must have come from the wind damage. Hefting it in both hands, he took a practice swing. Before he'd rounded it out, Thomas snapped it out of his hands. Jared stumbled backwards and fell on his ass. Thomas flung the branch out of his jaws and turned his attention to Jared.

 _Change. Come on. Shift now, you little shit._ Jared tensed his neck and clenched his fists. _Come on. All the fighting you've been doing to stop me from controlling you. Come on, you fucking monster I've got living inside of me. Come on out. I need you to come out. I'm going to die if you don't. Come on, you asshole, wolf out._

Jared remained resolutely human. Even the urgings to shift that he'd felt and fought moments earlier stayed dormant. Thomas' growl came from a place of evil that measured him in sharp contrast to the soft spoken man Jared knew. This wasn't him, not even as a wolf. This was the Alpha's doing. Jared couldn't wait for him to be gone. However, given his current state, he didn't hold much hope he'd be alive to see it.

_You should have stayed down. You suck at being submissive when it counts. Worst omega ever._

Thomas charged. On the ground, Jared tried not to scream. With his eyes closed, he thought of his father trying to mate him off to that older wolf and his mother turning away from him when he'd returned, not speaking to the old man. Jared had thought she was angry at him too, but he'd looked again when she wasn't aware and he'd seen tears in her eyes. They'd only wanted what was best for him; he knew that now. Maybe if he'd mated with that old wolf, or with Tom, he wouldn't be two seconds away from having his throat torn out. A breeze blew across his hip where his shirt had come up and he remembered Jensen's hand on him that morning, how he'd awoken with Jensen curled against him, mouth open and eyelids slack in the careless way of deep sleep.

All he'd wanted to do was protect Jensen, and Chad and Tom. He'd failed. He'd failed so miserably that he couldn't even protect himself. Omegas weren't supposed to die like this. This was a death fitted for an alpha. Rank irony in that--the omega who didn't know his place would die like someone he wasn't. Except... except maybe this was exactly who he was. He was a rebel; he didn't fit in. He'd never wanted to fit in. Always off doing his own thing. Maybe not as independent minded, as bombastic as an alpha, but confident nonetheless and always putting himself first. He hadn't wanted to be mated off. _This is what independence gets you._ He practically heard his father telling him so. Thomas landed. He flinched against the hot breath on his neck. Instinct made him bare his throat, even as he kept his eyes squeezed shut.

Suddenly, a yip from above and Thomas's weight was gone, replaced by a greater mass. Then that too disappeared. Jared opened his eyes as the yipping turned to snarls. A black wolf had joined the fight. It put itself between Thomas and Jared, and when Thomas snapped at it and tried to get around, it lunged. Jared backed away, pushing himself on his rear until he was out of range of the snarling and yapping. From this distance, his senses flooded back and time, slowed since he'd thought he was about to die, resumed its normal pace. The black wolf was Tom. He looked to weigh fifty pounds more than his father, and he had distracted Thomas enough that he seemed to have forgotten Jared. Thomas rounded on his son, and they circled each other. Jared turned away when they charged. He covered his ears against the screams and the sound of ripped flesh. Finally, it stopped, but he still couldn't look. He didn't want to turn and see his best friend dead, nor did he want to draw attention to himself if Thomas remained alive.

"Jared?"

"Tom?" Jared looked. Tom stood, naked, next to Thomas' human body. He looked wrinkled and pale in the dying grass, purple-red blood on his neck the only color on him.

"Jared?" Tom said again. He wobbled. As Jared got up, Tom took a step backwards, away from Thomas, and puked on the grass. Jared caught him before he could fall. Tom clutched Jared's shirt. He accepted Jared's help and moved a few steps. Then he collapsed against him and wept.

"You're the pack alpha now," Jared said. "You have to keep it together." He rubbed Tom's back.

Tom wiped his eyes without letting go of Jared. "What were you doing out here?"

"Looking for Jensen." Jared pulled back. "You didn't send your dad after me?"

Tom blinked. "We're hardly speaking. _Were_ hardly speaking. I was tracking you because I figured you'd done something stupid. I hadn't planned on... Oh Christ." He started off crying again, but stopped himself at the first hiccup forcing its way out. "He wanted this. This would make him happy. He probably forced me into it--"

"Tom!" Jared grabbed Tom's shoulders and shook him. "It's done. It's over. You have to step up now. I need you to help me."

Nodding, Tom wiped his nose. A string of clear mucus stuck to his hand. Jared tried not to let his sensibilities get the better of him as Tom wiped it on Jared's pants. Now was not the time to lecture about hygiene. "What do you need?"

"I need to find Jensen."

Tom shoved him away. "The _hunter_ is the reason all of this is fucked up. He killed Christian. He might have killed Chad. And what about Leslie and Ed? And who knows how many others! And you want to help him?"

"Yes," Jared said.

"He'll kill you." Tom stared at him. Jared met his gaze. "It's what he does, Jared. Just like you and I turn into wolv--" He paused and looked Jared up and down. "Actually, why _are_ you human right now?"

"It's still early," Jared said.

Tom's eyes became slits. He peered at Jared through them as the howls of other wolves echoed around them from varying distances. "Uh huh. You want to try that again?" He took a step forward. "You want to tell me why you _smell funny_?"

"I..." Jared swallowed. "I found a way to stop it."

Tom blinked. "Stop what?"

"The shift, the change, the urges. All of it. I haven't wolfed out in months."

"What?" Tom stared at Jared as if he'd grown another head. "You've been locking yourself up, you said--" He stopped when Jared shook his head. Realization settled across his face. "You lied. You've been... that's why you were sick, isn't it? You've been poisoning yourself!"

"I can control it," Jared said. His voice rose with his insistence. "It's just harder now, with the Alpha around. Something about him makes my hormones less susceptible to control."

"Tell me about it," Tom said. He offered up a humorless smile.

"Yeah, I was, uh, surprised you could switch back."

Tom shrugged. "Gift of the heir. I could always do cooler stuff than the rest of you."

"Right. But I didn't know if that still held." Jared glanced away. He didn't like having this conversation with Thomas lying dead a few feet away and attracting insects. "I mean, with all the craziness going on." He turned back to Tom. "Look, I know I owe you loyalty as pack alpha and--"

"Oh, don't start."

"--and as your friend, but I need you to help me. Please. Morgan is going to kill Jensen. It won't make things better. It'll be one more death in this town. We can stop it. Please, Tom. I know you can help me."

"You really fell for him." Jared perked up at the resignation in Tom's tone and felt immediately guilty.

"Yeah. I guess I did."

"You know you can't be with him. Once he finds out what you are..." Tom looked away. "If he hurts you, I'll kill him."

Jared waited. Sometimes silence was the best response. After a moment, Tom said, "He's at the jail. Chad and Mark took him there a few hours ago. He's being questioned."

"Thank you." Jared cupped Tom's face with one hand and leaned forward to kiss his opposite cheek.

"Just don't get killed," Tom yelled after him as Jared ran for the motel. He raced around to the front. Jensen's car sat there. Jared tugged on the door, as if Jensen would have left it unlocked. Fortunately, there was a truck in the parking lot, whose owner evidently was more familiar with local customs. Jared hopped in, turned the keys that were in the ignition, and tore out onto the road, heading for town.

The La Mer-sur-Plaines police station was a one-story building that sat alone in the center of a block southeast of the town square, an island in a black-paved parking lot. At this time of evening, the day shift would be gone. The "night shift", such as it was, consisted of Donnie Hudgins, a retired old-timer who still did the safety drills at the elementary school and Marjorie Platt, his second cousin. Neither of them were wolves, but they had a good understanding of the culture and co-existed peaceably with it. Jared parked the truck in a spot that wasn't marked out for police cruisers. He sat for a moment, gathering himself. Was Morgan inside? What would Jared do if he had to fight him? If they were holding Jensen, it would be in one of two cells at the back, which meant he needed to walk through without being questioned. He glanced down at his shirt.

He wiped futilely at the dirt and green stains embedded in the fabric. A glance at the mirror showed bits of grass in his hair. He picked it out and combed through his tangles with his fingers. _Plan. Make a plan._ He scolded himself. _You can't just walk in and--_ A man and woman walking up to the station door caught his attention. He'd gone to high school with them. He searched his brain for their names. Oliver. Oliver and... Lyddie. Yes! They were omegas. And they were just walking through the door.

Of course. Omegas could do that. They had no agenda. Had no desire except to be helpful. Jared grinned. _All right Mom, Dad. You're about to get what you want. Your little boy is going to be exactly what he was born to be._ He stepped out of the truck, closed the door behind him. And, with the meekest expression he could muster, made his way toward the police station's glass door.

  
  


****

Jensen gave up the first kernel of information when Morgan ordered that a propane flame be held to his arm. As it licked along his bare skin, he shouted out the names of the roots that ground down into the powders that formed his drug. His shirt hung on him in tatters, cut thin by Dexter's practiced strokes with the cane, and each tear providing a window to a matching scratch on his torso.

"What does it do?" Morgan asked.

"Keeps me hard," Jensen said. He forced a bloody smile. Morgan had punched him earlier. One of his molars had come loose. He pushed it with his tongue.

"Feet," Morgan said.

The blond wolf, _Chad_ , pulled Jensen's boots off and stuck the flame to the bottom of his foot. He kicked out, but Chad held him fast. Jensen screamed, and realized only when the flame was pulled away that in the midst of that scream, he'd said Danni's name.

"Should have tried fire on you hours ago," Morgan said. He'd seated himself on the metal cot that was bolted to the opposite wall from where Jensen was chained. Leaning back, he commanded his wolves in their torture. "Only thing is, we wolves don't like it much. You see how the one at your feet shakes?"

Jensen glanced at Chad, who knelt in front of him, clutching the small propane tank. Maybe it was Jensen's imagination that he wobbled--when he looked up, his eyes were as blank and hate-filled as they'd been when he'd come to Jensen's door.

"Of course this just goes to show what I've always told you," Morgan continued, heedless that Jensen's attention wandered elsewhere. "You're just like us. Practically a wolf yourself."

"Horses fear fire too," Jensen said. "You going to tell me I'm a horse next?"

Morgan grinned. "You're funny. I've always liked that about you." He addressed Chad. "Burn his other foot. As punishment for distracting me from my business."

"Got it, boss," Chad said. He grabbed Jensen's ankle.

"Who's Danni?" Morgan asked. "And what does she have to do with those powders, hmm?"

"Go to Hell." He spat out the insult in the final second before the flame touched his sole.

Morgan laughed through Jensen's screaming. "No, no, you take your time before you tell me. Take all the time you need."

Jensen didn't know how much time passed before Morgan got up and signaled Chad to open the door. He only knew that his throat felt like he'd shredded it.

And that he'd told Morgan who Danni was and what the powders did. Morgan walked to him. Jensen tried to balance on his tiptoes as Morgan slid his fingers through his braids and tugged, hard. He forced Jensen's head backwards at a sharp angle.

"Who else knows what this drug of yours does?"

"Everyone. It's on the internet." Jensen forced a smile. _Fuck you._

Morgan grinned. "Sure it is." He took hold of Jensen's face, pulled his eyelids down with his thumbs, and spat. Jensen sneezed in response. He flung himself forward as soon as Morgan let go, blinking and gasping and trying to get the saliva out of his eye.

"I'll be back soon. And you'll tell me all about where I can find your friend. She sounds like someone I'd like to..." He paused to lick his lips. "...know."

"You could let me down," Jensen said. "A little recovery time so I'm fresh to be tortured again?" He somehow managed to keep his tone cheerful.

"Son, don't tell me that these past few years haven't taught you how to sleep on your feet." With that, he turned and walked out the open door.

"I'm going to kill you!" Jensen shouted. It emerged as a croak. The door swung shut with a metal clang.   
  
  


****

"Hey Jared!" Marjorie said. She looked up from the receptionist desk. "You been rolling around in the mud?"

He smoothed down his shirt. It wasn't hard to act self-conscious. "Touch football," he said. "Do you mind if I check the community board? I want to see if there are any new postings."

"Not at all." Waving him toward the corridor behind her, she turned back to her computer where, Jared knew without looking, a game of spider solitaire held her attention.

The community board took up a third of the wall about halfway down the hall. Jared stopped in front of it until he was certain she wasn't looking. He didn't see Donnie as he edged down the hallway toward the bullpen of desks that should be empty this time of night. Once he was past those, he'd be in the holding area. From there, all he had to do was find Jensen. If he was lucky, someone would have left the keys hanging on the nail hook between the doors of the two cells. If he wasn't... he'd cross that road when he came to it.

The captain's door at the back of the bullpen was shut. When Captain Bogard was inside, he kept it open. Jared heard indistinct murmuring all around him, but he didn't see anyone. He made his way towards the cells, sidestepping as he went so he could stop and pretend to be perusing the announcements of municipal band performances and "Free puppies, first come, first served!", a phrasing that offered a different meaning to different readers. He reached the turn and, with a final glance, darted forward. The keys were in place. They were huge, the type used in old westerns, down to the iron circle key ring holding them together. He breathed a sigh of relief.

When he was in kindergarten, he'd come here on a class trip. Donnie had been the one to open an empty cell and usher the kids in, then pull the door shut when they weren't looking. If Jared had suspected before that he was different, he'd known it after that. Some children, who he'd been told were alphas, cried. The ones labeled omegas had hugged them. The human children ran around like it was a game. Jared had flung himself at the door and pounded it with his small fists until it opened again. Then he'd hit Donnie's knees until Donnie had knelt down and gathered him up in his arms and whispered an apology for "a bit of fun."

Now he stood between the two doors again, listening and searching through the remnants of stench of the prisoners and officers who had passed through those doors for the scent that matched Jensen's. Striking on a decision, he grabbed the knob that would open a two inch by twelve inch slit at eye-level on the second door, and slid it open. At first, the cell looked empty. Then he heard a moan and a clang and his eyes adjusted to the darkness on the other side of the door. There was someone there, against the wall.

Jared shifted because at this angle, he couldn't see him full on. But he smelled him now. It was Jensen. His head was bowed and he was quiet. Jared smelled blood. Though the cell was dark, he could see splotches on Jensen's shirt. He wondered why Jensen didn't move at the same time his brain slotted in the reason for the clanging. _"These chains are historical, kids. Two hundred years old," Donnie said. "We don't use them anymore. They're just for show. Of course--" He leveled a teasing gaze at Chad, the class ringleader. "--we do make exceptions."_

Looked like Morgan had made an exception today.

"Jensen?" He wished his voice didn't come out so broken.

Jensen lifted his head. "Jared?" He sounded hopeful. "What are you doing here?" The more he spoke, the clearer it became that talking caused him pain.

"I'm going to get you out of here."

"Hurry." Jensen swallowed. "He's coming back."

Jared reached for the key. It was gone. He turned, thinking that he'd grabbed it already and dropped it.

Chad stood a few feet away, holding it up. "Morgan wants to see you."

"Chad..." Jared took a step forward. "Please. You have to help me. We have to get him out of here."

"Yeah. That's what Tom said. He called me and told me you were coming. He told me that I should help you."

"Did he tell you he's pack alpha now?"

"He did. And I told him that as long as Morgan is here, we don't have a pack alpha." Chad stepped up to meet Jared. "I told him that the hunter killed Christian and I will see him dead."

"Chad--"

"He's waiting for you in the captain's office. I wouldn't keep him if I were you."

Jared glanced at the cell door. He couldn't risk it now. But later... _Stay calm. Stay careful_. He'd save Jensen. "Fine." Turning around, he started toward the bullpen. Chad shadowed him.

"I told him everything," Chad said, "so don't think about pulling anything."

"What would I pull?" Jared paused at the bullpen's entryway to ask. "I'm not clever."

"I might have believed you before you decided to get involved with a murderer. Now, I don't know what I think you're capable of." He shoved Jared's shoulder and sent him stumbling forward. "Move."

Jared planted his hands on his knees to stop his fall. As he did, he leaned forward and was able to see behind the first desk. "What the--" Scrambling forward, he tried to crouch beside Mark's body. Chad jerked him backwards. Jared stared down at the colorless face of Christian's former partner. His empty eyes stared at the ceiling.

"Leave it," Chad said.

"What did you do?" Jared tore away from Chad's grip. "You... did you _kill_ him?"

"He questioned me." Chad's voice rose until it landed somewhere between righteous and petulant.

"He was your friend! You're upset with me because I'm trying to keep people alive, and, yes, that means Jensen too, and you've gone and _murdered Mark?_ Hypocrite, much?" Sure, Mark was always an asshole to him, but that didn't mean Jared wanted him _dead_.

"It wasn't my choice." Chad grabbed the back of Jared's arm and squeezed so hard that Jared winced. "The Alpha ordered it. Now get a move on."

Jared thought better of saying anything else, since Chad clearly wasn't going to be receptive. Keeping his eyes forward, he marched himself--aided by Chad's steady pressure on his tricep--to the captain's door. He stopped in front of it, but Chad reached past him and knocked.

"Enter!" At the Alpha's bark, Chad pushed the door open and nudged Jared inside. Morgan sat behind the desk. Jared tried not to let his gaze wander over to the floor beside the six-drawer tall filing cabinet, where a pair of black regulation boots, occupied, stuck out from behind it. It might be Captain Bogard, but it might be--his stomach hitched with nausea--it could be Donnie. Usually he'd be at the front with Marjorie, but he hadn't been and--

Morgan rose, smiling, to shake Jared’s hand. “Ah. The omega who thinks himself an alpha.”

“I... I don’t think that.” He stared at the floor, the wall, anywhere but in the Alpha’s cold yellow eyes. His gaze kept landing on the boots.

Morgan planted his nose in Jared’s neck and sniffed. “You stink.” He pulled back and sat on the edge of the desk between the captain's pendulum collision balls and his magic magnets pyramid. “I hear you've been a naughty boy.”

“Don’t know what you mean.” Jared tried to step back, but Chad had positioned himself behind him, and he crashed into his chest.

“The Alpha is speaking to you.”

“Oh, Jared,” Morgan said, clucking his tongue. “I think we’d better keep an eye on you.” He glanced at Chad. “Put him in with Jensen.”

"Alpha?" Chad asked.

Rushing forward in panic, Jared pressed his forehead to Morgan's knees in supplication. "Please. I'll be good, I promise. Obedient and.. and.." Reaching for Morgan's hands, he gripped him tight and forced himself to look him in the eyes. "Whatever you want of me."

Morgan shook him off with a smile. " _This_ is what I want of you." He snapped his fingers at Chad, and Jared felt himself being pulled up.

"He's trying to get to the hunter," Chad said. "We're just going to put them together?"

"Yes," Morgan said. "And Chad? When I want my orders questioned, I'll speak to a wolf of higher mold than you."

Chad ducked his head. Unlike the chastisements he'd taken when they were kids which he'd greeted with hidden mischief, this one reddened his ears and made his lips purse. Jared pretended he hadn't seen. “Yes, Alpha.” Taking Jared by the elbow, Chad pulled him out.

“Chad--”

“You want to tell me what's going on? You and Morgan have a secret language now?” Chad hissed.

“You don't get what he's doing?” Jared shoved Chad's hand off him as Chad herded him toward the holding cells. "Isn't it obvious to you?"

"It's obvious to me that we're going to interrogate the hunter until he's spilled his soul in blood and screams and you'll be there to see it." He pushed Jared against the corridor's yellow wall. The concrete was cool through his shirt.

"Morgan is done with interrogating." Jared stayed flat, trying to get his breathing under control. "That's why he's putting me in with Jensen."

"What?"

"I'm the end game." Jared twisted away to stand in the middle of the hall. "Tom told you I'd found a way to stop the shift? And you told Morgan."

"Because I'm loyal," Chad snapped. "I don't go around trying to be something I'm not, protecting _monsters_ because I can't see what they are--"

"I'm a monster," Jared shouted over him. "And I'm going to be locked inside that cell with Jensen when my medicine wears off. _That's_ what Morgan wants. _That's_ why he's doing this! That's Jensen's final punishment and my torture. For me to kill him!" His shouting turned into shrieks that Jared didn't recognize as his own voice. He was startled to find snot and tears running down his face, but he didn't wipe them away.

Chad stared at him. The wall clock ticked out, loud in the silence. Jared's stomach rumbled. He wanted to pitch forward and curl over it, to soothe the pain that rose inside him.

"He... he wouldn't do that," Chad said. "The Alpha has our best interests in mind." Jared blinked. He tried to think around the pain that now appeared in his shoulders and concentrate on Chad's voice. "Even yours." Chad pulled Jared into a hug. "Come on, now. No one would make an omega kill. We all know you're not mentally capable of taking a life. I mean, the repercussions you'd feel and.. and..."

Jared clamped his jaw shut. He couldn't stop shaking. Chad held him tight, but everywhere their bodies touched explosions of raw nerve-ending pain blew up over Jared's skin.

"He wouldn't do that to you." Chad sounded more confident, as if he'd made a decision. He let Jared go, but kept an arm around his shoulders as he guided him toward the cell. Jared's vision hazed over as Chad pulled down the keys and unlocked the door.

"N--no."

"Come on, Jay. It's just orders." He pushed the door open. Jensen's sick, half-dead scent struck Jared's nose like foul garbage left out on a street corner to rot. His vision went from gray to red to black to white, shapes blurred into entities marked in heat and movement. Finally, he latched onto his prey and charged.

"Jared! No!"

He registered the snap of a smooth neck and the slide and thump of a body hitting the ground before he realized what he'd done. Stumbling into the cell, he tripped over Chad's corpse and landed in a dried pool of blood.

"Jared." In contrast to Chad's final words, Jensen greeted him with a heady mixture of happiness and disbelief. Jared picked up on the change in his scent. Relief poured off Jensen in waves of vanilla flavoring tinged with the honey of newfound hope. "There's a lock pick in my shirt," Jensen said. "Hurry."

Jared blinked up at him. He'd killed _Chad. Oh god oh god oh god_. His vision cleared to a cool white. He tried to stand, but his body had other ideas. "I... I'm sorry." His vocal chords protested, on the verge of declaring speech unnatural. The final vowel rose in a pitiful wolfish whine.

"Jared, he was a werewolf. I know I have a lot to explain to you, but werewolves exist and... Don't be sorry."

 _Werewolves exist._ Jared wanted to howl with laughter, but he stopped himself for fear it would sound too real. It should have been the least of his worries when any moment Jensen would _know_. He looked at Jensen as long as he could before the shift forced him to all fours, and the crunch-rip of bones breaking and skin tearing in preparation for this hated rebirth became his only focus.

  
  


****

The wolf rose on legs trembling like an unsteady pup’s. He’d stood too long on two feet, trapped inside a human form. He shifted his front paws to better center his weight and arched his back. His fur was sticky with the mucousy remnants of his change. He licked his paws, front and back, and snuffled into his genitals for good measure. He'd settled in for a good lick when a whimper grabbed his attention and he bounced up, now certain of his stance.

“Shit shit shit shit shit.”

His mate was upset. The wolf checked for danger before he went to him. His kill lay in the doorway. Deciding that this was the reason for his mate’s reaction, the wolf grabbed it by the foot and pulled the body inside the small, stinking room. Now it wouldn’t attract other predators. Plus, if his mate should become hungry, this would provide for him. The wolf nosed his prey’s neck, searching for the soft spot. Just a taste—he wouldn’t want to give his mate sour meat.

“Oh my god.” His mate’s keening pulled his attention. “Jared.”

 _Jared._ He turned, uncertain as the word pulled at him, familiar and yet unknown. He watched his mate’s white-hazed shape as he pondered why he should feel this way about a word.

“Jared, please.”

It was a name. _His name_. His mate was calling for him! Filled with excitement, Jared leapt up. Placing his paws on his mate’s shoulders, Jared licked his face in greeting. His mate turned his head to expose more of his cheek in response. Jared lapped until the scent of the other wolves disappeared and then he licked away the salty water that trickled from his mate’s eyes.

“I can’t… you’re too heavy.”

Jared didn’t recognize the words, but he felt the way his mate slumped. He brimmed with shame. His mate was hurt and here he was leaping on him! Getting down, he rubbed against his mate’s legs and felt their tremble. Brushing against his mate’s feet elicited a choked cry. Jared nosed the remnants of his mate’s shirt up and licked gingerly over his wounds. His mate’s stomach pulled back, but Jared followed it, intent on his task to heal and soothe. Finally, his mate seemed to get the idea. He stopped pulling away and even, Jared was pleased to notice, pushed forward to meet his tongue. Jared knew how well a carefully applied tongue could ease the worse hurts. When he finished cleaning his mate’s stomach, he rose up again, supporting himself against the wall instead of on his mate’s shoulders this time. He licked fondly at his mate’s ear when he felt his mate’s nose nuzzle against his chest. With his mate comfortably nestled against him, Jared turned his attention to the raw skin rubbed red from the metal traps that bound his mate's paws to the wall. His mate hissed when Jared licked, but he continued anyway, knowing that after the hurt was licked away, his mate would find comfort in Jared’s dedication.

“Don’t suppose you can pick the lock while you’re at it?”

Jared paused. He wanted so badly to understand his mate. The tone of his voice rumbled pleasantly in Jared’s stomach, and lower, its authority positive and comforting, but the words meant nothing to him. Nudging his mate’s neck, Jared urged him to try again. His mate pulled on the traps, hard, and slumped down. Jared watched as he gathered his strength to do it again.

His mate was so clever! He’d found another way to communicate. Jared twisted his body so he could land on all fours. He leapt and turned to show his happiness, bouncing over to lick his mate’s face again before leaping high. He landed and crouched, wagging his tail.

“Are you going to eat me now? Is this the pre-dinner exercise?” His mate’s rumble sounded tired. Of course, of course. He’d been trapped too long. Jared remembered a stern caution about traps: Don't go near them. He resolved to thoroughly scold his mate for not knowing better. For now, Jared needed to free him, find him sustenance and water, and a safe place to sleep. He glanced at his kill. It would be easy to tear off a hunk of meat… but no. Freedom first. Then food. Jared circled his mate’s legs, nudging him forward to move between him and the wall. He was gratified when his mate leaned against him, even if Jared’s intent had been to get a better look at the traps. Coming around to the front, he rose up again and snapped at the chains with his teeth. ("Hey, watch it!") He hurt his teeth, felt shame for making his mate scold him, and the chains held firm. Frustrated, he got down again and this time tried charging them, an idea he was forced to stop mid-leap when his mate yelled, and Jared learned that he did recognize one word, when said at volume: No.  

Jared sulked away to a corner. He peed, pretending that he’d meant to abort that (foolish, stupid, hasty) plan for this purpose, and kept his back to his mate until he had sufficiently recovered from his disgrace. He felt better for having urinated. Now he had covered more of the room’s bad scent. Although, all things being normal, his mate should have been the one to do that. Jared could forgive the change in structure though, considering that his mate was in no position to assert his status, and he had clearly been caught by a higher alpha. Jared’s job now was to save his mate from abashment. He certainly would never remind him of this. Still… it wouldn’t reflect well on his mate if the alpha who’d caught him—and Jared’s nose told him it was a very strong alpha indeed—should enter and find the piss of an omega serving the purpose that should be an alpha’s domain.

No, that wouldn't do. Trotting with purpose, he planted his nose between his mate's legs and nudged. He smelled of urine already, and the... _clothes, his brain supplied_ , he wore felt cold and clammy against Jared's snout. Perhaps he had already tried to assert his dominance. Jared nosed him again, trying to signal him that another display was needed.

"Jared." His mate's voice sounded weak. He twisted; Jared followed as he backed into the wall. He began to wiggle, Jared and following and encouraging his movements until he heard a small "ping" and his mate went still. Jared looked toward the sound. A small, thin stick lay on the concrete ground. "Don't suppose you could get that for me?"

Jared looked up. He thumped his tail on the floor and waited for his mate to figure out how to get his meaning across.

"Um. Fetch?"

Leaping up, Jared ran from one end of the room to the other, jumping across his kill and back again. Fetch! It was a puppy's game, but being with his mate made him feel so young and, yes, he would play fetch! What a wonderful game! He skidded to a stop in front of the tiny stick and carefully picked it up.

"Good boy. Now give it here." His mate wiggled his fingers. Jared carefully stretched up on his hind legs and placed the stick in his mate's hand. He stole a quick nuzzle as he got down. Scooting backwards, he watched with eagle eyes for the stick to be thrown.

His mate seemed to be struggling with the concept. Perhaps he'd forgotten how to throw. Instead of flinging the stick, he turned it inward and tapped it along the trap. Jared whined.

"Come on, come on, come on... there!" His mate let out a triumphant cry that, as far as Jared could tell, had nothing to do with their game. Feeling sullen and snappish, he nipped his mate's knees. "Ow! Fuck!" A kick followed the harsh words. It didn't hurt, but Jared skittered away nonetheless. He settled down next to his kill and set his chin morosely on top of it. He didn't even feel like eating now. But at the same time, he didn't want those other wolves to get it.

Where were the others? Surely they should have come by now. With a glance at his mate, who was preoccupied with his single-player stick game, Jared ventured up to stick his head out the door. The hall was empty. He walked down it, looking side to side. Two wolves lay on top of desks in a room filled with them. They didn't look at Jared with any interest, so Jared dismissed them. At the front, a computer screen swirled in different colored lines. A woman was slumped half on top of it. She seemed familiar. A tingling in his mind urged him to know her, but he couldn't make the pieces fit. Jared sniffed the blood that dampened her hair. It smelled of the powerful alpha. Whimpering, he backed away. That alpha's scent was everywhere, but it had lost some of its power. The master wolf wasn't here. Jared perked his ears, listening, but no howls fell within his hearing. He didn't like this place with its yellow walls, blood-scents, and wolves that stayed inside--no place for a wolf; no place for _him_. His paws clattered on too-smooth floors as he skidded back toward the one he would recognize no matter what. He charged into the small room, intent on checking that his mate hadn't been further harmed while he was gone.

He saw the traps first, hanging empty with his mate's blood still staining them. Then something landed on him and yanked his fur. He growled and waved his head to snap before his senses kicked in and he recognized that his mate was on top of him. He pulled the fur on Jared's shoulders while one arm reached around to squeeze his neck. His knees gripped Jared's haunches.  Jared flattened himself to the ground. He offered his best supplicant whine. How angry his mate must be! Jared had done so much to threaten his dominance. If his mate would just get off, Jared would roll over to bare his stomach and throat, but now the pressure eased and instead of a weak but punishing grip, Jared felt simply a dead weight on his back. His mate's head slumped alongside Jared's shoulder and his breathing steadied. Moving with the utmost care, Jared picked his way around his kill toward the door.

His poor mate! He needed help and Jared had allowed himself to be distracted with play. He'd _nipped his mate's knees!_ He'd peed! Jared felt such shame. He'd make up for it now. He'd get his mate somewhere safe and see him healed. A low growl drew his attention as he rounded into the main corridor. The two wolves he'd previously ignored stood in front of him. It woke his mate, who uttered a sharp word and rocketed off Jared's back. With the extra weight gone, Jared charged. He made short work of the first wolf, who he outweighed by a hundred pounds. The second bit him on his left haunch, and Jared spun around. He saw his mate backed against the wall, about to be attacked. Jared leapt and knocked the other wolf away. It snarled, but limped off. Keeping his head low, in case his mate was still angry, Jared nudged him forward. He walked a few steps before stumbling again and falling to his knees. Jared wiggled beneath him and lifted him up.

"Nggh." Every echo of weariness was captured in that noise. Jared implemented a warning growl to scare off other comers as he made his way to the door with his precious cargo. Once he reached it, he stopped, confused. He butted it. He pawed it. He growled at it.

It did not open.

His mate made a strange braying sound. Jared tried to puzzle out its meaning. It wasn't a growl or a whimper.

"What's wrong, Jared? No opposable thumbs?" He got off Jared and limped to the door. He opened it. "Ta da." Jared headed out first, licking his mate's hand as he passed. Finding no wolves around, he herded his mate toward the metal beast that smelled familiar to him. "Thank God!" His mate took hold of it, opened the door, and climbed inside. Jared bounced up to follow.

The door slammed in his face. He whined and scratched, but his mate seemed to be busy on the inside. He made the harsh sounds again, and slapped the steering wheel and made the noises louder and finally slumped backwards in the seat. Jared scratched again. His mate finally looked at him. "No!" he yelled through the window. Startled, Jared backed up. He hadn't expected that. Clearly, his mate intended that he should stay outside and guard him. Jared leapt on top of the red beast. He sat, alert and watchful. From this vantage point, he could see all comers. His rescue was not yet finished. Beneath him, he could sense his mate settling down. Perhaps he would sleep now, confident in the knowledge that Jared was here to keep him safe.

****

Jensen manually pushed the truck's electric locks down. Above him, the wolf, _Jared_ , shook the truck as he settled on the roof. _Holy fuck Jared is a werewolf._ How did he not know? Was Jared some new strain that his drug didn't react to? Some kind of super wolf? He was _fucking huge_. Christ, when he'd stood up, he'd towered over Jensen. On all fours, his shoulders were above Jensen's waist. When he'd nosed Jensen's crotch, he'd needed to bend down to do it. _Brain, don't go there_. Nothing like connecting the snout in your business to the guy you'd willingly and, okay, a little forcefully but Jared had loved it, shoved down there that same morning. Jensen squeezed his dick and uttered a wordless prayer of thanks to no god in particular that he still had a dick to squeeze.

His hand came away damp. Jeans still hadn't dried from when he'd wet himself. That had come after Morgan ordered Chad to stop punching him. He'd made it through being an asshole's boff bag only for his bladder to betray him the moment he stopped clenching his stomach muscles. They'd brought the propane out not long after, so Jensen hadn't had much time to feel uncomfortable in his soaked denim.

At least Jared seemed like a friendly wolf. Jensen still intended to kill him, but for now, he was good with how things stood. Him in here and Jared out there. Plus, his mind hazed in and out as each movement reminded him of a bruise or cut, or _god, he stank_ , and there was something he should remember, something he should do... He couldn't believe he'd survived. He'd never expected to make it out of that cell alive. Probably owed Jared something for that.

Danni. The memory of what he'd done slammed him with the subtlety of a car on concrete. There would be wolves looking for her now because of him. Because he couldn't keep his goddamned mouth shut. Never mind they were burning his fucking skin. He should have bitten his tongue off before he'd said her name. If he'd been smart, he would have dug through Jared's clothes in the cell to find his phone. The transformation had shredded them. He'd never seen one close up like that; he'd almost vomited watching it, from both shock that Jared was one of _them_ and disgust at the sound and stench of bones breaking, skin ripping, and fur remolding around the new skeleton. But Jared's phone should have been fine. With a hand on the door, he debated making a run for the station.

 _Yeah. Great idea. Run for wolf central when you've got your new best friend perched above you and one who wants you for snack time waiting inside._ Plus, his feet hurt. Pulling his leg into his lap, he inspected the fragile skin where Chad had burned him. He hadn't been sorry to see Chad get his neck twisted, that was damn sure. Jared had looked stricken, though, and Jensen had pitied him.

Of course, that was before he knew. Big ass werewolf like Jared? Probably had a few hundred kills under his pelt. Jensen didn't know why he acted like puppy with him, sweet and submissive--a little stupid--but turned into a killing machine against those other wolves. He'd acted like he had the intention to eat Chad. Jensen's stomach churned. He didn't have anything in him to vomit up, but he swallowed on his gag reflex anyway. He shouldn't be surprised. Mindlessness of beasts and all, but... That wasn't something he'd want to see. Plus, his mind unhelpfully supplied, Jared would probably be upset if he ate someone. Jared the person; Jared the wolf obviously wouldn't have minded.

His feet were tender, but he'd survive. Few days off them, some decent salve--another reason to call Danni--and he'd be fine. The cuts and welts from the cane were another issue. Now that the feeling was returning to his arms and wrists, they announced their pain with a parade. It drowned out his other senses. Every movement made him want to scream, which was another mistake because his throat felt torn out. He glanced out the window, searching for a sign that the night would end. Still dark as blazes out there above the street lights. Stars and moon shining down. Gritting his teeth, he settled in for the night. He didn't have a weapon, but he had Jared, who seemed intent on protecting him for whatever wolf logic pleased him.

With pain forcing tears to well in his eyes--he blinked them away before they spilled--Jensen laid down on the bench seat, out of sight line of curious wolves, (as if Jared wasn't beacon enough) and waited for morning.

 


	7. Chapter 7

Despite the wind whipping freezing air around him, Jared's ass felt like he'd sat on a hot plate. He reached back and tentatively squeezed. Fuck. Eighty percent chance he'd burned it. He sat up, clutching his head. What the fuck had he drunk last night? Looking down, he did a quick inventory. Arms, legs, head, dick, all present and accounted for-- _Dick? Holy shit I'm naked._ His hands flew to protect his modesty so fast he almost injured himself. At the same time, he woke up enough to recognize where he was.

In the police parking lot.

On a truck.

That wasn't his.

Because he'd stolen it.

Which he'd done because...?

_Ohhh shit. Jensen._

Jared climbed down as the memories returned. The ones he could grab, anyway. He'd wolfed. And... blank from there, but apparently his evening had ended with him on top of a stolen truck and--he checked the window--Jensen asleep inside. So... that was a win, right?

Fortunately, it was too early for anyone to be around. Not that too many eyebrows would be raised if Jared turned up naked. It wasn't unknown for any of Chad's friends, both human and wolf, to wake up in similar situations. The man owned his own keg stand. And put it to use every weekend.

Okay. Keys. Obviously he hadn't had the forethought to stick them up his ass, so he'd need to go inside and get his clothes. Wiping the sleep out of his eyes, he headed for the door. All quiet as he went in. Marjorie was sleeping at the desk. Jared tiptoed past her. He was almost to the corridor when something made him pause. She wasn't moving. Not even breathing. Turning back, he saw that her hair was matted dark with blood. He stumbled backwards and spun when he hit something. It was Lyddie. Had he killed...? The memory returned to him, not in clarity but as a haze of emotion and shadow that still left no doubt as to what he'd done. Pressing himself to the wall, he rushed past her. The open bullpen reminded him that Donnie or Captain Bogard was dead in there. He averted his eyes as he made his way to the holding cells. The door to the one Jensen had been in stood open. Jared grinned in relief as he hurried in.

He stopped cold.

Chad lay stomach down on the floor, head turned to one side. His eyes were open, glassy beneath his blond lashes. His hands lay straight along his sides, and a bloody pawprint stained the back of his shirt.

"No. No no no no no no." Jared collapsed beside him. He tugged Chad into his lap. "Tell me I didn't do this. Please tell me I didn't do this. Please tell me..."

Chad didn't tell him anything. Chad's neck hung at its broken angle and his tongue poked out of his mouth. Jared held him and rocked him. Hot tears rolled down his cheeks and splashed Chad's hair. He would lay down here and die too. He would-- His phone's ringing interrupted his silent proclamation. Carefully setting Chad down, he crawled to his ruined jeans and searched for it.

"Where are you?" Tom asked before Jared said 'hello.'

"I'm in trouble," Jared said. His voice shook. He wiped his nose. "I need to ask you something."

"Can you get here? Right now?"

"Tom, please. I need to--"

Tom huffed. "Yes. What is it?"

"When you told Chad what was going on last night, did you do it so he would stop me?"

A pause on Tom's end. Then: "What? No. I told him so he'd help you. Why? Is he being a dick?"

"He's dead."

"What?"

"I killed him." Jared began to weep. "I didn't mean to. But I was protecting my mate. I didn't know what I was doing and I..."

"Hey--" Tom's voice sounded gentle.

"I shifted."

"Jared, I'm at my parents' house. You need to come here. Some shit went down last night. Morgan went on a killing spree. I want you here where I can keep you safe."

Jared hiccoughed. "Jensen's hurt bad. I need--"

"Bring him. But Jared? He'll be on lock down and if he even looks like he's thinking about killing a wolf, I will end him."

"But if I hurt you protecting him, I won't live with myself. I killed Chad." He announced this with a sob that racked his chest.

"I'm pack alpha, Jay. If you hurt me, it'll be the last thing you do."

It was a testament to how well Tom knew him that he knew this was what Jared needed to hear. The authority settled him. He sniffed away another sob and quietly said that they were on their way. Once Tom hung up, Jared fished out the truck keys, gathered up his clothes and shoes, and returned to the pickup.

Jensen slept the whole way to the Wellings' home. It was a three story Victorian mansion located a half mile outside town limits. There were other homes, just as grand, around, each separated from the other by high fences to the sides, a line of forest at the back that led down to La Mer Creek, and tennis courts or swimming pools in the middle. Jared carried Jensen from the truck into the house and down the stairs to the spare room in the basement. Tom followed him the whole way.

"Don't cuff him!" Jared protested when Tom tried to handcuff Jensen to the bed, pointing out his raw wrists.

"He's not getting free reign of the house, Jay," Tom said, and after some discussion that involved Jared crossing his arms and shaking his head "no" at Tom's every suggestion, they settled on laying him on his stomach (after carefully pulling his shirt off so Jared would have access to his wounds) and looping a rope through his belt loops, followed by some other rope wizardry Jared couldn't follow, which Tom concluded by knotting it beneath the bed's antique oak frame. Tom wanted to loop it around Jensen's neck as well, but Jared put a stop to that.

"You've searched him for weapons?"

"No."

Tom did a quick pat down and came up empty. "Well, I guess Morgan did. Better safe than sorry."

"If I write down some herbs, can you get them from my kitchen?" Jared asked. "I want to make a salve for him."

"I can send someone," Tom said. "I get to do that now that I'm in charge."

Jared smiled, feeling relaxed for the first time since that damned team meeting had introduced Morgan into his life. Even the discussion about how to bind Jensen had been carried out with the humor and ease he and Tom normally shared. "You've always done that, Mr. Heir Apparent."

Tom grinned back. "Yeah, yeah. Just write whatever you need down and I'll make sure Wolf City's most wanted gets it."

"Thanks."

"Yep." Tom turned to go. "If he moves, hit him with this." He handed Jared a ceramic vase off the dresser. Jared obediently held it in his lap as he sat on the chair opposite the bed.

"You got something I can write with?"

Tom produced his phone, tapped and swished through a few screens and gave Jared his full attention. Jared rattled off a list of essential items, which Tom dutifully typed. "Anything else?"

Jared looked at Jensen, who had settled into a fitful sleep. "He's going to be okay, isn't he?"

Tom squeezed Jared's shoulder. "You're asking the wrong guy."

"He will." Jared didn't move his focus from Jensen as Tom left. He heard the door close. Setting the vase down, he reached forward to take Jensen's limp hand. "You'll be fine," he promised. "You'll see." Silently, he added, " _My mate_."

  
  


****

Jensen pressed down with his knees and hands. Sure felt like a bed under him. He shifted. Rope around his waist. He wasn't wearing a shirt. Had he made it back to the motel and strapped himself down? He was five, six, seven… well, however many hours out from his detox. Maybe longer than he’d ever been. Better get on it again….

“You’re awake!” Jensen opened his eyes. Jared had positioned his huge head right in Jensen’s face. “How do you feel? Do you want water? I’ve got—" Jared cut himself off. He knocked the wicker desk chair he was sitting in over when he hopped up and almost spilled the plastic cup that he snatched off the dresser. Jared offered Jensen the tall cup with both hands, holding it like a chalice. Jensen stopped his smile when he remembered that as a wolf Jared shared a few of the same traits.

He took the water and sipped. No sense in being rude. Wolf hunting was all about professionalism. Rudeness was a sign that feelings were involved, when really it was as simple as stab and twist. Jared watched him and urged him to empty the cup by waving at its bottom each time Jensen slowed. Jensen up-ended it to show he’d taken it to the last drop and set it on the night stand. He scoped the room. This was someone’s home. Not Jared’s. This room had the aura of early 80’s teen boy about it. Red carpeting, pop culture prints on the walls and, a mother’s touch, an old quilt hanging over a frayed green lounge chair. Maybe it was Jared’s childhood room?

“This your house?”

“Tom’s parents'.”

“Tom…?”

“He, um, tall guy. Taller than me?” Jared demonstrated by raising a hand to hover above his head. “You killed Christian in front of him?” Jensen wasn’t sure why he inflected that as a question. Seemed like a damn good descriptor to him since he knew who Jared meant now. “Tom” had been a scary huge motherfucker. Jensen had no doubt Tom would have ended him if Jensen hadn’t managed to fall on the other side of the wolfsbane.

“Does he know you brought me here?” He tried not to be obvious as he looked for the knot that would free him, then decided, fuck it, get clear and then worry about appearances.  There was a wolf wanting to eat him upstairs. Hell, there might be one _right here_ , despite last night’s evidence to the contrary. Jared couldn’t be that cuddly all the time.

“He’s my friend. And I didn’t have any place else to go,” Jared said. He sounded defensive, but also desperately loyal. He’d used the same tone to talk about that crap tea he drank. Jensen decided against analyzing _that_ observation. He gave up on finding a knot. Whoever tied him had hidden them too well. The knots were probably lashed around and behind the head and foot boards, and the way the ropes circled him, he couldn’t reach either.

“So,” Jensen said, “I guess I don’t need to explain about werewolves to you.”

Jared’s ears burned up as Jensen repeated the last thing he’d said before Jared had turned. He suddenly found his hands very interesting.

“What I want to know is how you hid it. Are you a different breed?” Jensen sat up. The rope around his waist might stop him from getting off the bed, but it didn’t hinder his movements on it. Jared had sat down again. Jensen fought the urge to grab his hair and make him talk. It couldn’t be the violence that put him off. Maybe it was the memory of pulling Jared’s hair when they’d fucked, and how Jared’s surprised sigh had pursued a direct route to Jensen’s cock.

“I don’t understand.” Jared leaned forward, not toward Jensen, but so he could fold in on himself. His massive shoulders bunched so tight they almost touched. “It’s just how I was born.”

“You’re a legacy?”

“Yeah.” Jared looked up. He brushed his hair out of his eyes. Jensen didn’t see any of the pride he’d come to expect. Legacy wolves liked to flaunt it. Now that Jensen’s head had cleared some, he took a good look at Jared. His eyes were red and puffy. The pores in his cheeks and forehead stood out. He looked like he’d aged ten years over night. ( _And he’s still hot._ ) Jensen shook off his sympathetic urges. _This is why you don’t get to know them first_. Anger welled up. It wasn’t his damn fault. Jared hadn’t set his drugged-up senses off. Somehow, he’d slipped by.

“How’d you do it?” Jensen asked again. His raw voice probably helped get his anger across. Jared dropped his arms to his side and, _Christ_ , opened up like he was baring his chest and— _he’s submitting. This is what it looks like_ —Jensen stomped down, hard, on his urge to push Jared further, to see how far he’d go before yelling foul.

Fuck, fuck, fuck. He wasn’t like that. A hard ass, sure, but he didn’t have any predilections for watching a sweet, dopey guy blush red and stumble because Jensen looked at him.

_Tell that to your cock. It missed the memo._

“I didn’t do anything different.” Jared addressed the wall behind Jensen’s head. Maybe that was a submission thing too. _A wolf thing_ , Jensen corrected himself. Somehow, thinking of it that way made it easier to ignore.

_Message from your dick:  No it doesn’t, you big fat horny liar._

“Hey.” Jensen snapped his fingers in front of Jared’s face. “Eyes on me.” Jared obeyed, too quick to be comfortable for him or Jensen. “Let me spell it out for you. I’m good at telling who’s a wolf and who isn’t. You, I never flagged. I want to know why.” He left the “or else” unsaid, both because he didn’t have an “or else” at that moment, and because Jared looked like he’d fill in the blank fine on his own.

“Well,” Jared started, his gaze again on the print of dogs playing poker over Jensen’s head, “it might be because you’re my mate and if you’d known I was a wolf you’d have killed me before giving us a chance to bond.”

Jensen blinked.

Jared darted his gaze over to him along with a timid smile.

“I’m your what?” Jensen asked when he found his words. He grabbed the cup, wishing he hadn’t sucked out all the water.

“My mate,” Jared said. “I knew it when we”—he lowered his already quiet voice—“when we had sex.”

“Huh.” Most of the time Jensen didn’t speak simply because he didn’t feel like it. But this time, he had a whole lot to say and was absolutely speechless. Sure, Jared had been a damn good fuck, and yes, Jensen hadn’t wanted to leave, but that did not mean they were meant-to-be and heart signs. That just meant they were awesome at sex. He almost sighed at the memory— _awesome_ —but caught himself in time.

Jared shifted on the chair. He stretched one arm up to scratch behind his shoulder. “Is it weird for you? I figured it might be weird for you.”

“You know what I do, right?”

“Yeah.”

“I hunt werewolves.”

“Yeah.”

“So I would think it would be weirder for you, knowing that I’m going to kill you.”

Jared stood up, no clumsiness in his movements this time. He strode to the wall like he needed space. When he turned around, his face was a mask of accusation. “I rescued you. I saved your life.” Jensen put his hands up, ready to fight when Jared stepped toward him, but Jared stayed out of range. “I murdered my friend for you.”

“Didn’t ask you to,” Jensen snapped. He pushed up on his knees, pulling the rope tight. “And if you think I’m going to bend over and be some wolf-bitch just because a wolf-cupid got you in the ass with his arrow when you were looking at me, you can think—"

“You’re the alpha,” Jared blurted.

“What?”

“I’m, I mean, biologically, I’m the omega. Which, I know what it usually means, but I don’t consider myself submissive. Well, in some ways, yes, but like, I’m independent and I do my own thing and… and… I’m not going to cook for you or saying I want to marry you tomorrow so I can do your laundry or anything like that. Plus alphas can be pretty helpless, at least in my experience, and I’m good at helping when they… well, I mean, I can help you when you need support and… and someone who cares about you.”

“I’m the alpha?” Jensen repeated in a stammer. The rest of Jared’s speech had passed over him in a blur.

“Like that’s a surprise?” Jared said. “I mean, you’re ten kinds of hot and, um, strong, and, you know, you’re pretty bossy.”

Jared had him there.

“Right. Okay.” Jensen gave the idea a minute to sink in. Then he gave it another minute. No matter how he turned it, he couldn’t make the idea of wolf hunter plus werewolf equals true love forever fit. “This isn’t going to work.”

“You don’t know that,” Jared said.

“But I like you,” Jensen admitted.

Jared smiled. "Good. I mean, that's, that's great--"

“So here’s what I’m going to do." Jensen cut him off before Jared could stumble over his tongue too much. " I won’t kill you until after I’ve killed Morgan. So that means if the last two wolves in the world are you and him, I’ll kill you last.” It was a magnanimous offer. He didn't think Jared would recognize it as a sign that Jensen thought he was special, but he'd never made it to a wolf before.

Jared leaned against the wall. Jensen expected him to protest, maybe to beg, but he looked Jensen dead in the eyes. “I accept.”

“You understand what I’m telling you?”

“I’m not stupid." Jared hit Jensen with an expression that conveyed exactly what he felt about Jensen's question. Jensen kept eye contact, although internally he squirmed. "You think wolves are monsters." Jared stuck his chin up. "You think I'm a monster. But everything I did was to protect you.”

“Doesn't matter.”

“Okay.” Shrugging, Jared returned to the bed. He knelt down astride Jensen’s legs. "If you want to to feel that way about it, I can't stop you."

“Jared?” Jensen wasn't sure what was going on, but he felt like he'd missed the boat on an argument.

Jared tipped Jensen’s head back. “I killed my friend for you—”

“Can’t believe that obnoxious shit was your friend,” Jensen said, as his hips rocked up to get better friction.

“And since you aren’t going to kill me for a while, I think you should do something to take my mind off it.” Jared kissed him.

Jensen responded to it at first, opened up and let Jared tease his way inside... Jared's tongue might be his one weakness. Damn thing could tabula rasa him right back to forgetting he had any problems. Jared pulled back and Jensen panted his senses back into his head. “Might kill you tonight. I’m feeling good about Morgan.” He didn't say it with as much conviction as he could have. Damn brain wasn't online.

Jared shoved Jensen down on his back. He sucked on Jensen’s ear as he followed him down, breaking away only to say, “Then fuck me now.”

“Well, since you said it so nice…” Jensen kissed him. Jared smelled good and... _Shit._ He shoved him, hard. "What the fuck? You trying to trick me?"

"Look. This is how mates work." Jared sat up and, maybe as a form of revenge, sat his two-hundred plus pound muscular self right on Jensen's crotch. He held up a finger. "One. An omega and an alpha or a beta and an alpha or a beta and an omega or two betas or two omegas but almost never two alphas because that's weird, decide they're going to be mates. Or the higher up one tells the lower one that's how it is, but that's a real dick move." Jared glared at Jensen as if _Jensen_ had ever had it in his mind to do that. From Jensen's purview, the tables were flipped around on that one. Jared shook the expression off. It was probably a remnant from someone else trying to do that to him.

"Uh huh." Jensen tried to scoot out from under Jared. His legs were starting to fall asleep.

"Or." Jared held up his second finger. "Nature rushes in and bites you on the ass and says, 'Hey, this one here!' That's us."

"That's _you_ ," Jensen said.

Jared shrugged. "Whatever. God." He glared down, though he seemed more upset at himself than Jensen. "I must have really amused you last night running around like a lovestruck pup."

"Hey, I'm just happy you didn't eat me." He thought better of adding _like you almost ate Chad_. "And, uh, yeah, you kind of did. It was a nice reprieve from the torture." Fuck, a little honesty wouldn't hurt, would it? He didn't want Jared beating himself up. He'd rescued Jensen after all.

"You're welcome."

"Didn't say thanks." It came out gruff, but dammit, he hadn't meant for Jared to take it that way. All he was doing was stating facts.

Jared leaned down and put his lips next to Jensen's ear. "I guess I'd better teach you some manners in the time we've got left." His breath blew warm and damp into Jensen's ear canal.

"We, um--" Jensen licked his lips, unconsciously returning moisture to his suddenly parched mouth.

Jared shoved his hand up Jensen's side. He grazed it over Jensen's bruises, but the feeling it roused was more pleasure than pain.

"Did you give me something? Painkiller?" Jensen arched his neck, urging Jared to suck his bared skin.

"Made you a special salve." Jared kissed him. "From the garden."

Jensen grabbed Jared's hair and held him in place. "Bless your garden."

"Uh huh." Jared's eyelids fluttered against Jensen's cheek as his response stuttered out of him.

"So, sex is not going to, um...." Jensen blinked as he tried to remember a time when words had meant stuff like... like... talking and... uh... stuff.

Jared paused in sucking on Jensen's nipple to say, "I solemnly swear that we will not be wolf-married if we fuck. Sex has nothing to do with it. Tom and I fuck all the ti--" Jensen wasn't sure who was more surprised when he yanked Jared's hair and forced his head up. Jared's lips worked around his open mouth in a fish-mouth O. Jensen held him, his own mouth echoing the shape of surprise until the flare of jealousy eased. He swallowed and eased Jared down, smoothing his hair in apology.

"Sorry. Carry on."

He swore he could feel Jared smiling against his chest and cursed himself again. Bastard had done it on purpose to test him.

Well.

"Don't mention fucking Tom again," Jensen said, because he didn't want to hear about Jared's sex life and not, _not_ , because Jared responded by clinging to him and rubbing his cock against Jensen's leg as a solid promise. He tried to relax as Jared took care of him. He deserved this, didn't he? Jared's sure hands on him? Jared's mouth? Morgan had almost killed him. What kind of sick bastard used fire? _The kind who shreds your family, jackass._ Jared's salve must have worked on the burns too, because he had almost no pain. Hell, if he'd known healing would be this easy, he'd have held out longer before giving up so mu--

"Fuck!"

This time, Jared got out of the way before Jensen flung himself up to a sitting position. "I need your phone."

"My phone?" Jared looked confused.

"I have to call someone to warn her."

"Um? I don't... Tom said you need to stay here and--"

"Jared. I have a friend who is very dear to me and yesterday I shouted her name to Morgan because your friend Chad was holding a propane flame to my skin. For all I know, she's already puppy chow. So, I would appreciate it, please--" He stopped to get control of his cracked voice, of his tired eyes and weary life. "--if you would help me."

"Okay," Jared said.

"Oh... kay?" Jensen wiped his nose.

Jared got up. "Give me her number."

"You're going to call her? What will you say?" Now Jensen was the one acting like a hyper puppy.

"I'll just tell her she needs to beware of werewolves because you screwed her. I assume she knows about werewolves?"

Jensen nodded.

"And, just so I don't step into anything awkward, am I using 'screwed' as a euphemism for betrayal only, or also to mean sex?"

Jensen tried not to panic as he pictured Danni _talking_ to Jared. God knew what would come out of her mouth. Out of either of their mouths. "Just let me call her."

Jared grinned. "Don't worry. Morgan hasn't sent anyone out of town. Tom's been keeping track. So just give me the number and I'll take care of it. If she's special to you, she's special to me."

"You're trying to make it hard for me to kill you."

"Is it working?"

"I've killed teenagers," Jensen said.

Jared's smile got wider. "Who hasn't wanted to kill one of them?"

Mumbling Danni's number seemed easier in so many ways--and less subject to misinterpretation--than "I think I love you."

Jared kissed his cheek, said, "Back soon!" and bounced out of the room. Jensen fell backwards. He covered his eyes with his forearm.

What the fuck had he gotten himself into? _Calm down. Focus. Kill Morgan. Save Danni. Kill Jared...?_

His mind wouldn't let him attach a positive to that task. But Jared was a wolf. He'd killed two people in front of Jensen. It was that same old argument, but it had never failed him before.

A werewolf was a werewolf was an instinct driven monster. End of story.

End of Jared.

 


	8. Chapter 8

The transition between pack alphas was called the "honeymoon period." Tom didn't know who decided on that, but he was damn sure it was someone with a morbid sense of humor. Standing alone next to his father's bleeding corpse, Tom had only wanted to do one thing: call his mommy. In the hours since, he'd watched his town fall under Morgan's roving band of chaos and thrall. After entrusting Thomas' body to his mother, Tom spent the night as a wolf, rounding up anyone who Morgan hadn't warped into going on a killing spree and forming his own posse with the goal of offsetting as much damage as he could. He'd managed to gather six: four betas, two of whom were part of a mated pair and had brought their omegas along. To say that it was less of an army than he'd hoped for would be an understatement of an understatement.

For decades, the werewolves in La-Mer-sur-Plaines had lived peacefully alongside the humans. A killing here and there, but covered up well by framing the victim as a "runaway", and so far no one had raised an alarm. Certainly nothing to make anyone suspect that, for example, the same person who served them cobbler in the local diner might also be responsible for the rabbit carcasses in their backyard.

Last night, all that changed. Wolves crashed through doors, tore people from their beds, ripped them apart in savagery that came from nightmares. Tom had the news on the small television that sat in the corner of the kitchen counter. A news crew had come down from the nearest station, over one hundred miles away. They'd set up camp outside the police station, where the somber reporter was fighting with her hat against the wind as she reported that inside everyone was dead.

"Will they blame us?" Tom turned to address the shaking omega beside him. She huddled over the kitchen table, her mate by her. The beta didn't look much better, but as was usual with betas, she kept her concerns to herself and simply hugged her mate close.

"People don't believe in werewolves," Tom said kindly. "They're bringing in an animal behaviorist to talk about wolves. Actual wolves, I mean."

"I don't feel any better," the omega said. Her mate kissed her hair.

At the next commercial break, when Tom got up to check on the other betas, he walked in on two in the living room staring blankly at a different television station. He knew them, Joshua and Mary, from around town. Joshua was eighteen, a rare case of a child surviving an attack: he'd been converted when he was twelve. Mary was fifty, and, as far as Tom knew, was still married to the husband she'd had when she crossed paths with an alpha twenty years before. He paused to watch the whooshing graphics and overblown voiceover announce: "Wolves Gone Bad! What caused a small town's legendary wolf population to turn rabid?"

"We're not rabid," Joseph said, looking at Tom with insult in his eyes.

"People like to make up classifications for things they don't understand." Tom picked up the remote and switched the television off.

"How's Carl?" he asked Mary.

She continued staring at the television's gray screen. "Dead." She pulled her cardigan aside to reveal a shirt dark with blood. Joshua made a small, disturbed sound.

"I'm sorry," Tom said. "I'll see if my mother has something for you to wear."

"I will wear this," Mary said. She fell silent, still not looking at Tom. He glanced at Joshua, who had scooted to his end of the couch.

"Get some rest," Tom said. "I know it's hard, but try."

"Yes, Alpha." Joshua turned to his side and curled his slight legs up to his bony chest, seeming relieved to have received an order. Mary clasped her hands in her lap. Tom left her and swerved toward the stairs. He jogged up the wide oak steps, averting his gaze from the parade of dead ancestors that hung on the wall--no doubt judging him--until he stopped at his parents' bedroom.

"Mom?"

She sat with her back to him, facing the bed where his father lay on top of a ninety-year-old handmade quilt. She'd wrapped a scarf around his neck to hide the killing wound and dressed him in true brown slacks and a matching checked shirt. Tom had helped her pull the light brown socks on his feet and set his smartest shoes at the edge of the bed. What hair Thomas had was too matted with blood to comb when Tom last saw him, but now it seemed his mother had found a way to wash it, because it was clean and smooth around the side of his head and his bald pate shone freshly scrubbed.

"Is it true the hunter is here?"

He ventured closer so he could see her face.

"Yes."

She turned around. He almost stepped backwards. His forty-five year old mother had bags under her eyes and for the first time he noticed gray in her dark hair. "Why?"

"Well, Jared asked--"

She began to laugh. "Oh, 'Jared asked. Jared asked.' I should have known. You should have mated him, Tommy. Then you wouldn't have him holding you on a leash."

"He doesn't--" Tom stopped to compose himself. He was pack alpha now, he should be able to handle his mother, but she plowed over him before he could think out what he wanted to say.

"Jared's always had a hold over you. He takes advantage of you, but you've never seen it."

"He's my best friend."

"He's an omega. He should be subservient to you." Her eyes blazed in anger. In that moment, Tom saw what a disappointment he'd been to her. Waiting so long to claim his place as pack alpha, spending his nights getting drunk and fucking with an unmated omega. It must seem to her that he had no backbone at all. But she didn't know Jared, and lately Tom had doubted if she knew her own son either.

"I don't subscribe to the old ways." He forced his shoulders back, forced himself to look her in the eyes. "It was my choice to let Jared bring the hunter here. He's bound securely." She made a huffing noise and glanced pointedly at Thomas as if to say, 'Your father would never do such a thing.' Tom refused to let the thought stop him. "I think he could be helpful to us. He's tracked Morgan for years. He knows him better than anyone."

"I always told your father that we needed to have another child in case something happened to you. 'Later, later,' he always said. 'Tommy will be fine.'" She grabbed his hand. Hers felt clammy against his sweating palms. "Morgan wants the hunter. He will stop at nothing to get him. Give him up now. I can't lose my entire family in one day. Please."

Tom knelt beside her. "Morgan won't leave until he's destroyed this town. It's what he does. Then he'll move on and destroy another. Dad might have given him the hunter, but I won't. It won't solve the problem. It will only show Morgan that he can control us."

"He already is."

Tom stood up again. He pinched the bridge of his nose. "Mary's in the living room. She needs a new shirt. Hers is covered in her husband's blood. Can you help her, please?"

"All right."

"And I could really use you downstairs. I've got a lot of confused people around and I expect more will show up as the day goes on."

"I don't want to leave your father."

Tom reached out to touch his father's leg. "He's dead, Mom. He's already left us. I'm going to go check on Jared."

He didn't wait for her reply before leaving the room.

Downstairs, someone had turned the TV back on in the living room. _"La-Mer-sur-Plaines is well known among surrounding areas for its pro-wolf policies that prohibit any type of culling of wolf herds, but have those policies now acted against it in what appears to be an unprovoked assault on human life?"_

Tom indulged himself with an eye roll. Of course La Mer had pro wolf policies. Every damn member of the city council _was_ a wolf. Joshua was asleep hanging off the couch, Mary hadn't moved, but Tom saw the black-haired head of Jasper and his mate Andrea sitting on the floor together. They held the remote between them.

 _"I've never seen anything like it!"_ On the television, the program rolled a news clip from earlier in the day. Mr. Daly, the owner of the Five and Dime that still had a mechanical pony out front offering rides for ten cents in the slot, waved his arms as he spoke into the reporter's microphone. _"I grabbed my wife with one hand and my gun in the other and started shooting at the suckers. This is why we can't let any of these leftie communists take away our right to bear--"_

Tom forced his attention back to his wolves. "Do you need anything?"

"Besides to know what the hell's going to happen next?" Jasper offered a tired smile. "We're fine." He glanced at his mate for support, and she nodded before snuggling under his arm.

"Okay. Get some rest."

 _"How is your wife?"_ the reporter asked. Mr. Daly lowered his arms. _"She died."_

Tom checked on the pair in the kitchen. Fern and Lisabeth seemed fine, so his next stop was the basement. The hunter was locked in the bedroom of Tom's teenage years, his sanctuary when he was too young to leave home and felt too old to sleep six feet from his parents. It was soundproof, thanks to the concrete walls and some extra padding that came as a result of his father's hatred of hair metal and Tom's absolute love of it when he was fifteen. The basement spanned the same area as the first floor, and Tom crossed through a laundry room, sewing room, and storage room before landing at the wooden door of his former abode.

He knocked. After a moment, Jared stepped out. While the outside of the door was a simple varnish, the inner door was still painted neon orange, an act that he'd done in secret with Chad and Jared at his side giggling and shushing each other. "Is he secure?"

Jared pulled the door shut. "Yeah. Can I use your phone? My battery's dead."

"You didn't use all the ingredients you asked for," Tom said, ignoring Jared's request.

"The rest are for my tea," Jared said.

"The tea that stops you from shifting?"

"Yeah."

"Jared...." He couldn't believe Jared was going to pull this now. However, he guessed he shouldn't be surprised since apparently Jared had been getting one over on him and everyone else for months. Time to put a stop to that. "I need you healthy today, Jay. It's all hands on deck. We don't know what Morgan's going to do. Promise me."

"I need it." Jared's voice rose; not enough to be a plea, but enough that Tom recognized the first hint of desperation.

"Not if it makes you sick like I saw. Fuck, Jared, Chad and I found you _unconscious_. Do you know what that was like for us?"

Jared stared down at his feet at the mention of Chad.

"Ah, shit. I didn't mean to remind you--"

"No. It's fine. I killed him. And you want me to be a wolf again. It's fine. I understand. I--" He cut himself off with a loud sniff and suddenly Tom found himself with Jared's nose against his collarbone and Jared's arms around him. He hugged him back, tight. Jared was taller and broader than almost everyone in the pack, but he'd always fit against Tom like they were made for each other. Tom stroked his hair for a few moments. Upstairs, he heard the doorbell and footsteps walking toward it.

"Until things go back to normal," Tom said. "Then I won't say anything about it. I promise." It killed him to see Jared like this. Maybe his mother was right about Jared walking all over him, but Tom figured he used Jared just as much, and he never had to question that Jared would do anything for him, or that he felt the same way about Jared.

Jared pulled back and looked like he was going to protest, but gradually he let out the breath he was holding and unclenched his fists from Tom's shirt. "Fine. Now can I use your phone?"

"Yeah." Tom handed it over.

He watched as Jared looked at a piece of paper and dialed, his tongue protruding from the corner of his mouth in the "thinky face" he used when he thought no one was looking. "Who are you calling?"

"No one." Jared waved for Tom to be quiet. "Hello, Danni? This is Jared. I'm a friend of Jensen's and--"

"The gardener?" she asked, loud enough for Tom to hear.

"Uh. Yeah."

Tom snatched the phone out of Jared's hand. "What are you doing?" he mouthed, cutting off Jared's protest. He swung the phone to his ear in time to hear Danni say, "Well, honey, he's told me all about you. If you're calling to ask his hand in marriage, you can ha--"

Tom covered the mouthpiece. "Did he convince you to call for help?"

Jared fixed Tom with a look that normally translated to "You stupid moron, why are you drunk again?" "No, he didn't. He said he might have put this girl in danger, though, so he asked me to warn her."

"Don't tell her anything else."

"Wasn't going to," Jared said.

Tom shoved the phone back to Jared, who flipped him off.

"Oh, um, thanks," Jared said to Danni. With his hearing, he'd picked up Danni's end of the conversation. She had continued to talk and was in the process of offering her cottage for the wedding when Jared got the phone back. "But I'm actually calling because Jensen asked me to tell you that, um, he's really sorry but he might have put you in some trouble."

Her laughter spilled out of Tom's speakers and into his sensitive ears. "So what else is new? Werewolves coming my way?"

Jared shot a panicked look at Tom. "Maybe."

"Well, I guess they found out."

"Um--"

Tom motioned at Jared to find out what they'd found out.

"Yeah, uh."

"Well, you keep him safe, Jared. You seem like a nice guy. Be careful now."

"Right," Jared said, as she ended the call.

"She didn't seem surprised," Tom said. "About werewolves, I mean."

"No."

"You have any idea what she was talking about?"

"No."

Tom studied Jared's face and decided he was being honest. He also decided that if ever needed to put someone on interrogation detail, Jared would be his last choice. "So, how was it with the hunter?"

"Fine. And his name's Jensen."

There was something Jared wasn't saying, but Tom didn't feel like pushing it. Jared looked ready to fall over.

He aimed to keep his voice gentle. "Go upstairs and eat some breakfast. I'm going to talk to your boyfriend."

"He's not--" Ignoring Jared's protests and his "Please don't kill him," Tom opened the door. Jensen sat in the middle of the bed, cross-legged in his jeans, and leaning against the wall. Red scratches criss-crossed his chest, some going all the way across. Tom was pleased that he was still bound. He hadn't fully trusted that Jared would keep him that way. Jensen didn't look surprised when Tom walked in.

"If you're looking for an apology about your friend, he should have stayed dead the first time I killed him."

"Not why I'm here." Tom grabbed the wicker chair and moved it right up next to the bed. He hadn't heard from Christian's family. He hoped Chad had delivered his body to them safely and that their silence was because they were sitting vigil, not because they'd been caught up in the night's chaos. He flipped the chair around and straddled it. Jensen's eyes darted down to Tom's crotch. Rather than hide what he'd done, Jensen met Tom's gaze head on and offered up a satisfied smirk. "If you're done comparing our dicks, we've got some talking to do."

Jensen shrugged. "You're the jailer."

"Look, I'm going to cut through the shit with you and get to the point."

"Suits me."

"I've got wolves going crazy out there. I've got the total destruction of human and wolf relations that we've built up over the past hundred fifty years on my hands. And I've got you, the guy who brought the Alpha to town."

Jensen made a show of tugging his ropes. "Let me go and I'm out of here."

"Yeah, somehow I don't believe you're the Pied Piper of the Alpha. See, I don't think he'll just go jigging after you once you've left. I think he'll go when he pleases, and I suspect that will be after he's torn this town to ruin. I'm fifth generation here, and I will not let that happen on my first damn day as pack alpha."

"So what do you want me to do?"

"Stick around until he's dead. Help us with him," Tom said.

Jensen leaned forward, his face set. "He killed my family. I want to kill him."

"I'm proposing a truce," Tom said. "The only wolf you kill while you stay in La Mer is Morgan."

"Until I kill Morgan, then I've already made a pledge to kill another one." Tom followed Jensen's gaze up to the ceiling.

"Jared."

"Yep. And after him, I'm perfectly happy to put you next."

That explained why Jared was acting cagey. He ignored the threat Jensen made against him. "You told him this?"

"Yeah."

"And he's okay with it?" Tom was going to give him a good thrashing, that was for sure.

"He seems confident he can change my mind."

Tom held up his hands, letting Jensen see how their size, curling his fingers and letting Jensen imagine them crushing his throat. "I'd prefer that you don't do that. Jared is dear to me."

"Yeah, he was a real kitten last night when he went on a murdering rampage."

"And saved your life."

A decent man would have looked away, lowered his eyes in shame.

Jensen wasn't decent.

"Do we have a deal?" Tom asked.

"You'll let me out of this room?"

"You'll stay in here and give us whatever information you think we should know to defeat him."

Jensen crossed his arms. "Nice try."

"No one knows Morgan better," Tom said.

"And I'm not saying a thing until you let me out. I'm a sitting duck in here."

"It's not safe for you. There's a house full of wolves up there."

Jensen snorted. "Yeah, I'm sure you care about my safety. Look, if you're going to torture me, been there, done that. Somehow I doubt your skills are quite up to Morgan's, son."

Tom stood. "Suit yourself. By the way, Jared called your friend. She says she's fine and thanks for the warning."

This seemed to take some of the wind out of his sales. "Thanks."

"Who is she to you?"

"Just somebody I trust."

"She said they'd 'figured it out.' What did she mean?"

"No idea."

"Give me something here, Jensen."

Jensen held out his bare arm. "Your friend Chad had to burn me before I'd say her name. And you think I'll tell you who she is just by your asking?"

"I don't do torture, Jensen. If you don't want to help us, that's your choice. But I hope you'll change your mind. If you don't, could be that none of us will make it through the night."

"Save me from killing you."

Tom sighed. "We're not monsters. If you'd get your head out of your ass, you'd see that. I'd think you would have seen that with Jared. He's never hurt anyone in his life. And now he's figured out how to--"

"How to what?" Jensen sounded curious, a change from his confrontational tone.

Tom weighed his options. Tell the hunter about Jared's method of preventing his shift? Or keep it secret? His mind zipped through the consequences, good and bad, but stalled on the wall of uncertainty. He didn't know Jensen, and Jared's trusting him wasn't enough. Jensen could easily use his new information about Jared against him, just as Tom could probably use whatever Jensen wasn't telling him against Jensen. It was a loop that Tom wasn't yet prepared to break. "Never mind. Just shout if you need anything." He closed the door and stood against it a moment. If Jensen did end up shouting, no one would hear him, but Tom was all right with letting Jensen sit with uncertainty after that conversation. Jared would probably spend plenty of time with him anyway, so Jensen wouldn't go without food, water, or, from the smell of him, sex.

When he reached the top of the stairs, Jared wasn't there having breakfast, but a half dozen wolves who hadn't been in the house when he'd gone down stood clustered in the kitchen. He recognized them all. Georgia, an alpha, spoke first. "Is it true you've got the hunter down there?"

"Yes."

"Great! Let's give him to Morgan." Alex, another alpha, started for the staircase. Tom growled, and he fell back to his original place.

"No one hurts him. He's going to help us."

"He can help us by letting Morgan eat him," Georgia said.

Tom stared her down. "Just because I am a new pack alpha you shouldn't think that I'll be walked over. No one touches him."

She grumbled, but pulled Dirk, her omega mate, towards the door that led into the rest of the house. Together she and Dirk ran the La Mer Inn. The others dispersed after her, casting suspicious glances at Tom. He sighed. He'd have to work doubly hard to earn their respect now. He'd already raised up suspicions about his willingness to lead when it took him so long to kill his father, and now, he hadn't solidified his power by killing Georgia or Alex for questioning him. The first kill was essential for establishing his new rank. Tom didn't want to do it that way, though. There was too much killing already. He'd had no choice in killing his father to save Jared, but he'd be damned if he was going to murder a member of his pack without good reason.

  
  


****

Jared wasn't hungry, but he grabbed a granola bar off the kitchen counter because Tom had told him to eat. Not liking the way the others looked at him, he didn't stay in the kitchen, but instead swallowed it in two bites and made himself scarce. The house had filled up since he'd been downstairs with Jensen. The Wellings' floorplan had a fairly open layout. The only room that was truly separate was the kitchen. From there, a person could stand at the base of the stairs and be in the front parlor, living room, and dining room all at once. From that vantage point, Jared assessed the situation. Seeing the other omegas were occupied with their mates, he hurried off for towels and warm rags to soothe the injured. They lay in bedraggled heaps on the furniture and carpet. He knelt beside Tiffany, a beta he'd gone to school with when she was human. She'd been turned while he was away at college.

"Jared." She smiled weakly. "Still single?"

He laid the washcloth over her forehead. "How do you feel?"

"Like a two hundred pound wolf ran into me."

He checked her over, gently pushing up her sleeves and part of her shirt. "All I see are bruises. You'll be fine."

"Marry me," she said, drifting off.

"Is it true what they're saying?" Scott asked. He was an alpha a year younger, who was sitting on the floor with his omega mate trembling beside him. Jared handed them a towel, which Scott used to cover them both.

"What's that?" Jared asked.

"That the hunter's downstairs and we're all doomed because Tom's protecting him."

"I don't see how we're doomed unless someone tells Morgan about it," Jared snapped. Scott's face changed. He'd been talking smack before, but now he knew. He _knew_ because Jared had confirmed it. _Shit. Shit. Shit._ "I mean, if were here...." But it was too late to backpedal. He'd let the cat out. Soon everyone would know. Without turning around, he sensed that he was surrounded by werewolves on silent feet, all leaning in to know what else they could get out of the stupid, weird, solitary omega. How else could they think of Jared? His own parents felt the same way, and now he'd gone and proved them right. He stood quickly, almost losing his balance as the blood rushed back into his legs. "Excuse me." He stumbled toward the stairs and ran up.

Thinking of his parents, where were they? Had they survived the night? Considering their traditionalism, Jared wouldn't have been surprised if they'd learned Tom was pack alpha now and decided to see what Morgan had to offer instead. _"It's all about tits with that drunken lout,"_ his father used to lecture whenever Jared dragged himself home after a night out with Tom, while Jared bit his tongue to stop himself from saying it wasn't _all_ about tits. Fortunately, his mother usually ended the conversation with a sharp chide against insulting the pack alpha's son, but it was clear from her tone that she heartedly agreed. Of course, if he'd dragged himself in at half past stupid o'clock and declared he and Tom were mated, they'd be rolling out the red carpet for them both.

Jared shook away the resentment. His parents were what they were. He had to love them as best as he could, even if they couldn't do the same for him. No, that was unfair. They loved him in their own way. They had different views of what was best for him. If he told them about Jensen, they'd explode. He grinned. It was almost nice to think about them out there somewhere worrying about him ruining his life by straying from their set path. At least he knew what to expect there. Here, with Morgan's plans unknown, he didn't have any answers. Seeing a door open at the top of the stairs, he walked toward it. He almost backed up when he realized he was about to interrupt Mrs. Welling's vigil, but something, maybe the thought of his own mother, compelled him forward. "Mrs. Welling? It's Jared. Do you need anything?"

The chair rocked forward and Jared could see that she was holding Thomas' hand. "I know what you're doing."

"What I'm--?" Mrs. Welling had terrified him when he was younger, a beta who had earned the highest placement in the pack that a beta could have, the source of jealousy from other betas for that rank, while her relationship with Thomas, unwavering for thirty years, sparked envy from less happy couples and fairytale dreams from unmated wolves. Jared had been caught in the middle, wanting neither power nor a partner, and to him Mrs. Welling was a beautiful woman who rarely smiled and never held back her scolding tongue. She saved her affection for her family. If a bit of it ever spilled over in Jared's direction, the sweetness was swept away in seconds by a snapped word. She'd slapped him once, when he was fourteen. He couldn't remember what he was supposed to have done, but was positive it was Tom's fault and that he'd somehow pinned the blame on Jared. He was so stunned he didn't stand up for himself. Later, when he'd complained to his parents, expecting them to sympathize, his mother asked if he was sure he hadn't done anything and his father had examined the mark on his cheek and told him he'd better "watch himself" in the future. The next day, Tom had apologized, which led to Jared's first blow job, and Jared would have been a jerk not to forgive him after that.

She turned. "Manipulating Tom so he'll let you hide the hunter here. He'd do anything for you and you take advantage of him."

"Did he tell you Jensen is my mate?" Surely she wouldn't begrudge him his loyalty to Jensen then, especially when having a mate would get him out of Tom's hair.

"Then you should both leave and let Morgan be done with you."

Jared swallowed. If she held any sway over Tom, he was a dead man. "I'll be downstairs if you need me. Sorry for disturbing you." He stopped in the hallway to stare at his hands. He concentrated until they stopped shaking. Opting for the back staircase, which would egress into the kitchen and thus avoid the gathering that he'd outed Jensen's presence to, he eased himself down the thin stairwell and creaking steps. Tom sat at the kitchen table with a handful of alphas. A few growled at him. So the news had spread.

"Jared?" Tom half stood from his chair. "Are you alright? You look--" He gestured to his own forehead, so Jared raised his hand and wiped sweat off his brow.

"I'm fine. Just checking on your mother."

"Ah." Tom grinned. "My mother has been scaring Jared since he was a cub." The atmosphere relaxed and a few "Me too" comments were muttered. "How is she?"

When Jared couldn't answer, Tom got up. "Are you all right?"

"Your mom thinks it would be a good idea for you to put both me and Jensen out." Jared didn't know why he was whispering. Everyone could hear him no matter how quietly he spoke. But Tom had dipped his ear next to Jared's lip, and for the security that illusion of privacy gave him, Jared was grateful. Tom squeezed Jared's wrist, pressing it against his hip.

"I will never do that. You're not worried about it, are you?" He pulled back. He studied Jared's eyes. Jared wasn't sure what he saw there, but it evidently wasn't what he was looking for. "Jared. We're a team. You and me, and, and Jensen too if he's willing. All right?"

Jared glanced over Tom's shoulder at the alphas watching. None of them looked to be on board with Tom's statements. But they weren't pack alpha, Tom was. "You won't sacrifice me for the greater good?" He ventured a small smile to show he'd chosen his words for their irony.

"Want me to pinky swear?" Tom asked. He held out his finger. Jared hooked his on.

"Dork."

Tom grinned. "Geek." He stepped away and returned to his seat. "Now, where were we?"

"We were talking about how the best plan we have is to put the hunter outside and tell Morgan to come get him," Steve said. Steve was a doctor who had delivered every baby born in La Mer after 1978.

"You were talking about that. I told you no. Start thinking of another one," Tom said. He glanced at Jared with what he probably wanted to be a reassuring smile but reeked more of exasperation.

"I'll be downstairs," Jared said. He grabbed the box of granola bars and a jug of fruit juice, trying his best not to look like he was fleeing. When he opened the door to Tom's room, Jensen had twisted himself up in the ropes and somehow suspended his left foot in the air. He lay on his back and frowned at Jared.

"Help?"

Jared put the food and juice down. "What did you do?" he asked as he sat beside Jensen's hip and started untangling him.

"Got tired of yelling, so I tried kicking," Jensen said.

"Why were you yelling? The room's soundproof."

"Now they tell me." Jensen tapped Jared's back. "You brought food?"

"Nothing exciting."

"I'm starving. I'll take anything."

"Here." Jared grabbed the box and set it next to Jensen's head. He finished freeing his foot while Jensen ate. When he turned around, four wrappers littered Jensen's chest.

"What?" Jensen asked.

"Are you a vacuum cleaner?"

Jensen grinned. He managed an approximation of a shrug for someone lying on his back. "Said I was hungry. Did you come down to check on me or try again to convince me not to kill you?"

"I came down because up there there's people pissed off at me and talking about throwing both of us out to Morgan like it'll solve their problems, so I figured I'd come down here because at least I know where I stand with you."

Jensen licked his fingers clean. "So we're almost in the same boat."

"Universally hated? Yeah. Great boat. Do you have to do that?" Jared didn't mean to look at his crotch to see how it was responding to Jensen's softcore porn show, but Jensen noticed and grinned. He finished off his ring finger with a wet smack.

"Tell me something about you that no one else knows."

"Why?"

"Because we're down here with nothing else to do. Something embarrassing."

"And you'll tell me something?" Jared asked.

"Yeah."

"Okay. My first week of college, I accidentally rushed a sorority."

"You what?"

"I got confused about the letters! Once I got there and realized it was all girls, I made up some stupid excuse and bolted, but yeah, that was probably the most embarrassed I've ever been. Your turn."

"Hold on. I'm not done laughing at you."

"You'd better make yours good."

"Better than that? Doubtful. Okay. When I was in high school, I was making out with this girl, and she touched my dick and I jizzed all over her hand."

Jared blinked. "That's it? Your teenaged hair trigger penis?"

"It was in science class, right before the bell rang. She was my lab partner and I had to sit through the entire ninety-minute class with jizz in my pants. I was scared to death it would turn out to be flammable when we lit up the bunsen burners."

"You thought semen was flammable?"

Jensen raised his hands. "I never claimed to be a genius. Plus, you know, I was worried about the smell. Wasn't exactly showering on a regular basis back then. Pretty much only when my parents made me."

"Eww."

"Exactly."

"Did you have to walk around with a wet spot? Because if you did, I'll concede that your embarrassing moment is worse than mine."

"Praise Jesus for Trapper Keepers."

"What are those?"

"Shut up. You're not that much younger."

"Favorite color?"

"Are you kidding?"

Jared glanced at the door. "You got somewhere else to be?"

Jensen sighed. "Red."

"Mine's green. Pine tree green. Not grass green."

"Thanks for the clarification."

"No problem."

"Favorite, I don't know, movie?" Jensen asked.

Jared grinned, pleased he was taking part in the conversation, however reluctantly. "Indiana Jones and the Last Crusade."

"Seriously?"

"Yeah. It's the best one."

"No way it's better than Raiders."

"Oh, it is _on_ ," Jared said. "Top three scenes in Raiders vs. top three scenes in Crusade. Go."

"Screw that. Raiders has Marion. She's hot _and_ kickass. Crusade has a traitorous bitch."

"Who gets dropped down a ravine in classic Disney-style. What's not to like?"

Jensen grinned. "You are so lame, man."

"Can we just agree that Temple of Doom is terrible?"

"Dude. Guy ripping a heart out with his bare hands."

"Oh god. Did you learn that from him?"

"I've never done it, but it's possible I memorized his technique."

"Christ."

"And what about that whipping scene? You can't tell me you didn't think that was hot."

"If you think because I'm an omega, I'm into that..."

"Hot, fit, sweaty shirtless guy whipping another hot fit, sweaty almost shirtless guy. What's not to like?"

" _You_ liked it?"

"Hell yeah."

"Which part turned you on more? The guy doing the whipping or the one getting whipped?"

He shrugged. "Either way looked hot to me."

"So yesterday must have been a blast for you." It was out before he could stop himself. Jensen's face shut down.

"Yeah, real pleasure to get tortured by the bastard who used my family for clawing class. What the fuck is wrong with you?"

"I'm sorry. I wasn't thinking. I didn't mean it," Jared said.

Jensen relaxed with effort. "It's okay. I forgive you."

"Um. Favorite... vegetable?"

"Asparagus."

"Seriously?"

"I think it's neat how it makes my pee smell."

Jared burst out laughing. "You are so weird."

Jensen grinned. "I've kind of got a fucked up life. I have to take my pleasures where I can get them." He fixed Jared with an intense stare. "First person you killed."

"I don't--"

"Come on, Jared."

"Well, it was... Chad."

"Chad? Who you killed yesterday?"

"Yeah."

"Seriously."

"I think, there might have been, a classmate when I was ten or so. But I just, um, I don't remember doing it and Dad said, Dad said he did it, but he kind of looked at me like, wrong, and I never really believed him and, and that's when I started hating who I was, I mean really hating it because I never understood until then that there was more to being a wolf than just running around and playing and I... I..." He broke off so he wouldn't start crying. He didn't notice the gentle pressure on his arm until it got tighter. He looked down to see Jensen's hand on him. "I hate having no control over what I do, coming to butt naked anywhere from forests to the town square, and wondering if I've accidentally pledged myself to some beta wolf trying to up their status by taking La Mer's most eligible as its mate."

"Being a wolf always seemed like a cushy gig to me," Jensen said.

"It's not. Come on, man, haven't you ever wanted to change who you are?"

Jensen shrugged. "Can't fight it, can I?"

"But what if you weren't a hunter? You must think about that."

"I think about killing Morgan." Jensen crossed his arms, something passed over his features that told Jared that for a second he'd thought about a different life. "So Chad was your first."

Jared wiped his nose. "Yeah."

Jensen let him go. "You are different, aren't you? You'd change if you could."

"Ask any wolf around. I'm a freak."

Jensen smiled. "My first kill was a guy my age, eighteen at the time. I'd watched him shift back into a human, and I followed him to his house. I killed him in his living room. Didn't know what I was doing, despite all the training I'd put myself through. Made a huge mess, knocked shit over. Looked like a break-in gone wrong. But when I left there I made sure he was dead."

"Is that supposed to make me feel better?" Jared asked. "You talking like that? You better at killing people now so I don't have to worry about a mess?"

"I'm starting to rethink that," Jensen said.

"Oh."

"You killed your best friend for me."

"I killed a close friend. Chad was too obnoxious to be anyone's best friend. Except maybe Christian. But yeah, I did it because I thought you were in danger."

"Well. Thanks."

"Yeah." Jared took a risk and scooted closer so he could sit against the wall next to Jensen. "Can I ask you something?"

"How old was I when I lost it?"

"Why do you use knives instead of bullets?"

"Because I like to watch them die. I want to be up close for it."

"I don't think that's it," Jared said.

"No?"

"I think you don't care if you die and you want to give them a decent change to get you."

Jensen huffed. "No one's gonna get me until Morgan's dead."

"What will you do after he's dead? Keep killing?"

"Hunting," Jensen said. "I don't see myself as the settling down type if that's where you're going."

"If you met one good wolf, would you let it live?"

"Don't know how I'd know the difference."

Jared took his hand. "But would you?"

"Yeah, I guess if I were positive. But no one's good forever."

"Humans make mistakes too. Go bad. You going to hunt them next?"

Jensen lolled his head back to look at the ceiling. "I'd have to start with myself."

"So you do feel bad."

"I wouldn't say that, but it gets to me sometimes. I have hallucinations and-- Never mind." He hadn't let go of Jared's hand.

"Hallucinations?" Jared prompted.

"The younger ones. Sometimes they talk to me. That girl I killed a few days ago. She was upset about her new dress." He squeezed Jared's hand.

"You want to stop," Jared said.

"I can't. Not until he's dead."

"I can help you. I mean, support you and make sure you have what you need, and give you a safe place to be."

Jensen shoved him away. "Get the fuck off me. I see what you're doing."

"I'm not talking about being mated. I just want to--"

"No! Goddammit, you shifters are all the same. Manipulating little sons of bitches! As soon as Morgan's dead, you're next--"

The door swung open. "Am I interrupting?" Tom asked, sounding not apologetic in the least. "We've got a situation upstairs. People are starting to shift now. I was wondering if you could regulate it with your tea."

"Oh." Jared sat up and scratched his head. "Well, it's never been tested on anyone but me, but I guess so."

"That gross tea you drink?" Jensen asked. "The stuff that makes you sick?"

Jared was perversely touched by the concern, considering that Jensen was going to kill him.

"I'd think you be happy about that, given what it does," Tom said.

"Gives him cramps?" Jensen asked. "Yeah, that's awesome. Hey," he glanced at Jared, "just because I'm going to kill you doesn't mean I want you to suffer. You're not an asshole or anything."

"Thanks," Jared said. He noticed that Jensen had said Jared wasn't an asshole and not that he, Jensen, wasn't one.

"So what's it do?" Jensen asked.

"Oh, well, it..." Jared fidgeted. "It, um...."

"He found a way not to be a wolf. It stops his transformation," Tom said.

"It does what?"

"It stops--" Jensen waved Tom quiet and stared at Jared.

"Is that true? Why didn't you tell me that?"

"I didn't think you'd believe me."

"So, last night, what happened there?"

"It was the Alpha. I've had to up my dosage since he came and my body couldn't handle it. It forced a fast detox and... I shifted. It's the first time I've done it in months. I couldn't control..." He bit down on his words. Tom circled around to him and put his arm around Jared's shoulders, but Jared's focus stayed on Jensen. "I was serious when I said that there are parts of being a wolf that I hate. So I did something about it."

Jensen stared at him as if he'd never seen him before.

"So you think you can help?" Tom asked.

"Yeah. I think so. I mean, I'll try," Jared said.

Tom stepped forward and sliced Jensen's ropes. "We need you too."

Jensen shook them off. "Time to toss me outside? Jared told me the plan."

"Oh he did?" Tom glared at Jared. "We've had some... heated discussion," Tom said, "but you're safe for now. We need you, though. No one knows Morgan better. So, will you please quit being a dick and come upstairs and tell us about him."

"Asks the guy who kept me tied up all morning."

"Asks the guy who stopped you from being someone's lunch and provided you with a perfectly nice place to rest," Tom said. "Tell me you've had a chance this good ever. There's an army upstairs and I'm ready to make you my second in command because I believe that your knowledge will help us win and get our lives back to normal."

Jensen laughed. "Normal? Nothing's ever normal after Morgan." He stood. "I'll help you though. But I want my weapons back."

"You don't kill anyone."

"Only in self-defense."

Tom paused. "Fine. We picked up your stuff from the police station. It's all upstairs. Here. Figured you'd want one." He pulled a knife from his belt. "Don't go Chuck Norris on anyone."

"Scouts honor. Any chance I could get a shirt?" Tom pulled one out of the closet. Jensen put it on. It hung off him. "Thanks."

"They're waiting." Tom led the way out.

Jensen waited for Jared. "Tell me how the tea works."

"It acts in response to my hormone levels. It keeps me balanced. That's the simple way of putting it."

"All right. So you take a lot of it--"

"I increase the amount the closer it gets to full moon," Jared said.

"You came up with it yourself?"

"Had to put my degree to good use somehow."

"And you don't shift."

"Right."

"Huh."

"What?"

"This tea of yours, figure that's why I didn't peg you as a wolf?"

"Um. What?" Jared filtered through Jensen's question looking for the logic behind it.

"I got my own... thing. Lets me know when I'm talking to a wolf even if they're in human form. When we met, you didn't ping."

"Oh. Danni said something about finding something out."

"Yeah. Tom tried to get it out of me earlier."

"Did he hurt you?"

Jensen smiled. "He asked relatively politely."

"Okay."

"After tonight I go back on my tea."

"Fine."

"You're not going to say anything about killing me?"

Jensen shrugged. "Well, given this new information I might be rethinking that. You just might be the one good wolf you were talking about."

"What about the mate thing?" Jared called after him.

"Still no," Jensen said over his shoulder.

Jared grinned. Well, at least he'd earned his life. After that, convincing Jensen they were meant to be didn't seem like such a huge task.

 


	9. Chapter 9

Had he ever thought about what his life would be like if things were different? Roadtrips for fun, not because he was chasing a psycho killer; taking the time to stop and admire Carhenge and world's biggest ball of twine and random plaques that said "Some Dead Guy Did Some Important Shit on this Spot a Long Time Ago"; his family alive and happy back home; his brother graduated from college and ribbing Jensen about when he'd get his GED... Yeah, he thought about it... for two seconds before he shoved those thoughts away and stomped them down. Shit like that, fucking _fantasy_ had no business in his life. It slowed him down and added baggage on top of what he already had.

Now he was sitting at a heavy wooden table with ten alpha wolves inside Tom's dining room. Tom had pulled sliding wood doors shut to separate the room from the living room and foyer. He'd spread out a map, explained the circles markered on it as "Here's where violence occurred last night" and asked Jensen what he thought would come next.

Jensen spent the next forty minutes arguing for an offensive attack. Go where Morgan is. If he comes here, you're sitting ducks.

The alphas were still arguing about it when Jensen slipped out the only actual door of the dining room, which led into the pantry. He heard Jared talking to someone and stopped to listen.

"Probably gonna be a big battle tonight." He didn't recognize the voice. Peeking around the corner, he saw a guy who barely scraped 5'7 gazing up at him as he stroked Jared's bicep. He was in his mid-forties with thinning dark hair. His suit jacket fit strangely, which was probably because it had belonged to Thomas or Tom. Most of the wolves currently wandering the house, Jensen had heard, were outfitted in whatever Mrs. Welling could give them. Since he wasn't in the strategy meeting, and he was clearly trying to get in Jared's pants, he had to be a beta.

"Uh huh." Jared stepped away. "Look, John..."

The beta came with him. "Robert."

"Robert."

"I guess I might not see the morning," Robert said.

Jared closed his eyes as if he were praying for strength. Jensen winced. Holy crap he was doing the "I'm shipping out tomorrow" speech.

"You should probably be in the tactical meeting, then," Jared said. This time, he succeeded in extricating himself.

"It's alphas only. You know, when I was human, I was the vice president of a bank."

"You still could be." Jared rolled his eyes. "Lots of people keep their jobs after they get turned."

"Naw. Being a wolf is so much more fun." As he spoke, he pushed his hand up Jared's shirt. Jared grabbed his wrist and pushed it out again. Jensen stepped forward, but kept himself hidden as a surge of jealousy welled in his gut.

"What's the matter? Don't you want to offer me some comfort, omega?"

"Not especially." Jared started to walk away, but Robert grabbed his shoulder and yanked him back. Jensen closed the distance and knocked Robert on his ass.

"Jared's off limits," he said. Then he cut off the protest with a boot in the mouth. "What?" He shrugged at Jared, who had turned around and put his fists up. "I promised I wouldn't kill any of you, not that I wouldn't do that." He stepped off Robert, who rolled away.

"I'm 'off limits'?" Jared asked. He sounded amused. He lowered his fists.

Jensen flushed. "For getting wolf-raped, yeah. Look, I'm sorry, I, uh, you look like you could handle yourself. I should have let you."

Jared grinned. "Oh, what? You had an uncontrollable urge to jump in? Feeling protective?"

"Yeah, well--" Jensen noticed the way Jared was looking at him and cut himself off. He stuck a finger up between them. "No. Don't go getting any ideas."

"Jared and Jensen sitting in a tree, K-I-S-S-I-N-G," Jared sing-songed.

He'd just saved Jared from an amorous wolf. _He'd just saved Jared from an amorous wolf._ The guy wasn't going to hurt Jared, and Jared could have handled himself. But Jensen had wanted to be the one to take him down. He'd wanted to do more than punch him. It wasn't Tom's rule that had held him back, it was--he cringed to think it--the idea that _Jared wouldn't like it_ if he killed the bastard. _But he touched Jared. He touched him_ , his mind shouted, and Jensen's skin prickled up like he was on his drug again, but this time he wanted to grab Jared and run his hands over every place that shitwad--he wasn't going to _think_ his name--had touched him to wipe away any lingering sense memory.

Jared stopped singing, and Jensen wondered how much of his expression gave away what he was thinking. "What?" Jared asked.

"Nothing. Just." Giving in to his need to show that Jared was his, he grabbed Jared by the back of the neck, yanked him forward, and crushed his mouth against his. It was more teeth then kiss, more clash and spit than romance, but Jared smoothed his hands down Jensen's back until Jensen loosened his grip.

"Good," Jared said into his mouth and followed the word with his tongue, pressing on Jensen's teeth until he opened with a sigh.

"No one touches you," Jensen said when they broke apart again.

Jared rested his forehead on Jensen's. "No one but you. Say 'yes', Jensen. Be my mate."

Jensen jumped away as quickly as he'd yanked Jared forward. He needed space. The reality of that statement, the idea of commitment and _settling_ and... and... Jared looked stricken, and he'd lost a shade of color--Jensen was sure there was a chill in the room he hadn't noticed before, judging by the goose pimples on his own arms--he wanted to jump right back into Jared's embrace. He forced himself stand straight. "Look, I don't know how this night is going to end, and I don't want you saddled with a dead mate."

"If we're meant to be--"

He stuck his hand up. "Ask me tomorrow."

Jared ducked his head and looked at Jensen through his bangs. He smiled. His lips were still wet from Jensen's spit. "You've come a long way since this morning."

"Yeah. I guess so." He didn't want to analyze it, which was probably a problem. Whatever had convinced Jared they were fate-mated had rubbed off on him. He could dismiss it as wolf mojo, except he'd felt it even when Jared had been drugged up on his tea and supposedly not emitting any type of attractant hormones. Hell, he'd had a sense from the moment he'd heard those library books fall that behind all that racket was someone he'd wanted to meet. Just because Jared had a different term for it didn't mean Jensen should be scared shitless. He could handle a home base, and Jared had said Jensen shouldn't expect him to be a house wolf. No fawning. No domesticity beyond what two guys do, which Jensen expected involved wearing the same jeans two weeks straight and only changing the sheets when they started to smell. So maybe it would be all right, if he decided...which he wouldn't, until after Morgan was dead.

Of course, there was another side of it, too, if he did say yes. He could do a rough calculation of the wolves he'd killed over the years, of the pissed off relatives, the friends, the _law enforcement_ gunning for him. He didn't expect any of them would mind if Jared got in the way. They'd mow him down just as easy as the glares Jensen had seen aimed in Jared's direction by the other wolves in the house now. Tom's dubious hold on authority--Jensen would have quashed the argument going on in the strategy meeting before it started if he were in charge--was the only thing (barely) keeping them in line. Without Tom around, Jared would be open game for anyone looking to get vengeance. He had to say 'no' when Jared asked again. Practicality above emotion.

Jared took Jensen's hand. "Come downstairs."

Jensen forced a smile. "I'd love to, but only because I have to check on my weapons. Come with me?"

"Sure."

Tom had put Jensen's bags in the laundry room, so Jensen walked back downstairs. They were sitting on a table that would normally be used for sorting and folding clothes. He unzipped the first bag and started laying out its contents. Jared watched quietly for awhile, but when Jensen pulled out the third machete, he cleared his throat.

"You, uh, you've got a lot of stuff there."

"Yup."

"You use all that?"

Jensen picked up the machete and took a few practice swings, slicing the air. Jared jumped. "All of 'em at least once. Like the knives best."

"I never heard of knives killing wolves."

"Danni taught me a spell. Everything you see has been anointed with the finest witchery a red-headed, fishnet-wearing, platform heel boot sporting college dropout witch can manage." He met Jared's gaze. "And that's damn fine."

Jared grinned. "You know, when I called her, before I told her why I was calling, she said she was happy to give away your hand in marriage."

"Oh she did?"

"You told her about me." Jared looked ready to jump up and down.

"Yes, I told her about you." Jensen rolled his eyes, but he couldn't help smiling either.

"So, you guys are close?"

"I see her every few years."

"So....? No?"

"She's the only friend I've got."

"Oh."

From upstairs, screaming.

"What was--?" Jared said.

"It's started."

Still clutching the machete, Jensen grabbed Jared by the elbow and shoved him into the sewing room. "Stay here."

"Jensen--"

"Stay."

"I'm not actually a dog. You can't just--"

Jensen slammed the door and shoved a chair under the knob. "Don't make a sound," he said through the door.

"I'm flipping you off," Jared said. "I can help!"

Jensen grabbed another knife and sprinted upstairs. Damned if he'd let Jared roam around when he was in big dopey nice guy mode.

The house was in chaos. Wolves everywhere, some still with bits of human skin hanging off them, windows broken, glass in fur, and the fucking _sun_ shining high in the sky. Jensen backed off, uncertain which wolves were supposedly his allies and which ones were Morgan's. The wolves in front of him were busy trying to tear out each other's throats, so he left them to it and eased his way into the center of the house. The dining room doors were open, sliding doors hanging loose on their hinges, and the map on the table lay in shreds as two wolves battled on top of it. Jensen looked toward the front door.

It was wide open, held so by Mrs. Welling's body, which was half in and half out of the house.

The stench of fresh blood burned Jensen's nose.

"Jensen! Where's Jared?"

Jensen turned to see Tom. "Locked him in the sewing room."

Tom gestured at a group of slight wolves behind him. "Take these omegas down to him."

Jensen didn't argue or bristle at the command. Tom growled something at them, and they all followed when Jensen walked. Jared tried to rush out when Jensen opened the door.

"Tom needs you to watch these guys," Jensen said, as the wolves poured into the room, dividing around Jared like water around a stone.

Jared nodded. "Jensen? Stay safe."

"Yeah."

On impulse, he grabbed a kiss. It was brief, no tongue, and the heart-broken look on Jared's face made him want to take it back. "That wasn't goodbye," he said.

"It better not have been." Then Jared shut the door on his own, leaving Jensen in the low lighting of the laundry room. He glanced at his weapons and in one swift move, shoved them back into the bag they'd come from. He zipped it and shoved it with the others inside the dryer for safe keeping. The last thing he needed was for some human-shaped wolf to get down here and find his arsenal.

The wolves that had been fighting in the kitchen were both dead, both still wolves. Jensen ran through the pantry and through the heavy swinging door into the dining room. Scott was barricading the door while his mate, who had shifted, prowled nervously beside him. In the strategy meetings, Scott had shot down all Jensen's suggestions.

"Let me help."

"Tell me why we don't throw you out there."

"Tom would kill you."

"I'll take that chance." Scott dropped the door and grabbed Jensen.

Jensen punched him. The omega growled and charged. Jensen pulled his knife from its sheath and slit its throat. He turned to see Tom behind him.

"Self-defense."

"You're dead!" Scott flung himself at Jensen.

Tom yanked him backwards. "Go help get the outer doors secured."

"Little late for that." Jensen shoved Tom aside as a wolf came charging in from the living room through one of the broken doors. He knifed it. It charged again.

"Move!" Tom yelled. Seeing Tom shift, Jensen got out of the way. He sprinted up the stairs. Two wolves passed him going down, but neither paid him any attention, and neither bore Morgan's traits, so he let them go. He skidded into a bedroom. Seeing the two bodies on the bed, he hesitated. Mrs. Welling lay beside her husband. Despite the chaos, Tom had taken the time to arrange her. Her empty eyes stared at the ceiling. From the corner of his eye, he saw a blur of gray as a wolf leapt through a hall window and bounded toward him. He dispatched it. As he stepped over it, he heard a slow clap. He turned. Morgan, in his human form, walked toward him.

"Your technique has always been something I've admired," he said. "I would ask you to teach me if mine didn't work so well."

"Hasn't worked on me yet," Jensen said.

Morgan smiled. "I think it's time to rectify that. You've lived with grief too long."

Jensen raised his knife. It gleamed with blood. "Mercy killing?"

Morgan looked put out before he offered a sad head tilt. "No, son, no. I've never cared about you at all. I don't think of you as anything but a nuisance. But you seem intent on blowing things all out of proportion."

"You killed my family."

Morgan stared. "Of course I did. I'm a bad bad man. But I'm a perfect wolf. Your problem is you've conflated the two and transferred that into a vendetta against all wolves. You should have spent all this time killing bad men, Jensen. You've wasted your life."

"I didn't--" Jensen stepped forward. "I know what you are. What wolves are."

"You know what I am," Morgan repeated. "You assumed you knew the rest."

"No--" He wouldn't let doubt slip in. This was what Morgan did. He played with psychology and, dammit, Jensen had been the butt of it long enough to know better.

"And I've let you live all this time because I didn't care. You amused me. But now, my plans don't include you nipping my tail." He brightened. "Plus, I understand you're almost happy now. I smell the omega on you. Jared, was it?"

"You don't say his name." Jensen surged forward, almost blinded with rage. Morgan leapt. Jensen didn't realize he was falling until he hit the ground. Morgan had shifted in the air. He struck Jensen's windpipe with his teeth, and tore. Jensen struggled to get up, one hand clasped over his bleeding throat, but Morgan's great weight kept him down.

Suddenly, another wolf sent him flying. Morgan backed off, growling, as two large wolves cornered him. They charged together. Jensen forced his eyes open to watch the finish.

He closed them to the sound of whimpering. Then a soft, warm tongue lapped his cheek, licking away tears he didn't know he was crying. _Jared. Please be Jared._ A second nose snuffled him. _Tom._ He smiled as he drifted away. _Yes, Jared. My answer's yes. I'm so, so, sorry that my answer is yes._ The sounds around him faded until the last noise he heard was Jared's whine.

  
  


****

Jared pressed his ear to the door. He wanted to be out there helping, but there was nothing he could do like this. _Shift, shift shift._ The other omegas huddled in the corner, partially hiding amongst rolls of wrapping paper and ribbon. The screams continued, coming from every corner of the house. Jared found his footing, put his shoulder forward, and charged. He was in the laundry room almost before he realized he was moving. The broken door swung on one hinge beside him. He sprinted forward with one thing on his mind: Jensen.

" _Omega._ " Jared stopped hard when Paula stepped in front of him, meeting him where the kitchen and foyer into the rest of the house met. She spread her arms to block his passage. "You need to learn your place." He staggered backwards when she struck him, the power of her wolf behind her fist. Following, she punched him again and he dropped to one knee.

"Paula... we're friends. Come on."

"You think you can go against nature. It's time you learned different."

The next blow caught him across the jaw. He tasted copper as the inside of his cheek scraped his teeth. He spat. "Just because I haven't wanted to roll over, because I've wanted to make my own way--" She grabbed him and shoved him against the wall.

"Morgan won't have aberrations like you. Hiding away in that house, denying alphas your allegiance, acting like you don't _need_ to be mated--" Jared racked his brain trying to remember if he'd ever denied Paula, if that was what this was about, but no, _she was omega too_. That was it, fuck, had she been jealous of him and now Morgan had twisted that with his influence into _this_? No, no, no, that couldn't be it. Paula was happy with her mate, wasn't she? Surely she didn't envy Jared for not having one? Morgan had found something else to tweak in her, maybe a whisper of a suggestion she'd never have found on her own and pointed her at him and--

As he stared into her furious yellowed eyes, his hindbrain recalled how he'd leaned over that library table after her scolding to confide to Jensen, _"One of these days, she's gonna kill me."_

He'd been _kidding_ , but there was nothing humorous about it now. His senses picked up on Jensen's fear. He _needed_ him, and Jared was down here getting lectured by a pissed off brainwashed librarian. "I know this isn't you. You have to fight it."

"I'd rather fight you." She pitched him then, flinging him out of the kitchen. He landed at the base of the stairs. Rather than run back to her attack, he silently thanked his lucky stars that she'd decided to start the battle with such a show of strength and took the opportunity to run.

He shifted as he sprinted up the stairs, scenting Jensen all the way. _Up._ He ran. When he reached the top, his front paws touched the pale pink carpeting and his hind legs launched him forward. With his mate on his nose, he ignored the strange softness beneath his paws and made his steps light as he prowled forward.

Turning into a room, the wolf saw the Alpha standing over his mate. He hesitated, but _mate_ stood strong in his mind as _Alpha_ shook and smoothed into _enemy_. Jared aimed for the throat. His teeth sank into soft flesh as together he and his prey flew to the floor. His pack alpha nuzzled him off. Jared sniffed to make sure the Alpha was dead before moving over to check on his unmoving mate. He licked and nudged, but his mate didn't move. Then a soft sound emerged from his still lips. Jared bent down and licked them, seeking to taste his mate's words so he could better know them.

"Yes," his mate said, his voice more air than sound, and the rest of it he didn't understand, but it didn't matter because his mate had said "Yes." Jared licked him again, but his mate didn't respond.

Sitting back on his haunches, he howled. His pack alpha nudged him, then sat beside him and raised his voice as well.

 


	10. Chapter 10

It all went to shit after. This was a mess even the pack elders--what was left of them-- couldn’t sweep under the rug. Whole damn police department was dead, apart from Tom. The president of the city council was found hanging upside down on the staircase in his home, his foot caught in the railing. The blood from his neck trailed down the steps drip by drip, soaking the hair of his equally dead second-in-command, who was collapsed face first as if he'd tripped as he ascended the stairs and stayed there to die.

Jared came to naked and wrapped up in the Wellings’ tennis net, suspended over the court in a way that rendered the net part hammock, part bondage device. He lay there, dangling, listening to the ambulance sirens that had woken him. God knew who called them—seemed the whole town was inside the Wellings’ house, dead or half-dead.

A week had passed since he’d scraped his knees on the green asphalt after he managed to twist free.

Scraped knees. Funny how his mind focused on that when his thoughts slipped back to that night. It all boiled down to scraped knees.

And screaming.

Growling.

Death.

Jensen.

Jensen, who wasn’t dead.

“Miracle,” the doctors said. They stared from him to their clipboards and back again, pausing to scribble and look, scribble and look.

Throat torn open. “Missed his carotid by a hair's width. Should be dead anyway.”

Vocal cords damaged. “Never speak again if he wakes up.”

Loss of oxygen to the brain. “Brain damage certain if he wakes up.”

One thousand fifteen stitches in his right shoulder. "Like a bear tore into him. Never use it again if he wakes up. Lucky to be alive."

Jared shifted and groaned as he stretched his legs, absently kicking the end of Jensen’s hospital bed as he roused himself from an accidental nap. Standard issue chair—brown upholstery, curved arms, reclined if he moved his ass forward—was hell on his back, but he hadn’t moved from it unless certain bodily needs drove him out.

“Jared, you can’t stay here forever.”

Or Tom.

“He could wake up.”

“Jay—it’s been a week. If he wakes up, I’ll call you. Now please, go get some fresh air. I’ll stay with him.”

“Tom.”

“That’s an order.”

Jared squeezed Jensen’s hand and left the room. He didn’t leave because it was “an order.” He left because Tom looked like shit and he needed the chair more than Jared. He glanced back and saw Tom already slumped in it, head pitched forward into his hands. Jared had hardly seen Tom since setting up residence at Jensen’s bedside. Tom had his hands full trying to stop the rolling avalanche of shitstorm from doing more damage.

Given that the hastily reformed city council had overturned the law against culling wolves and currently there were signs posted around town announcing a planned hunt (Operation Revenge, they called it; no mincing words there) and County had sent a half dozen police down to take over at the station, Tom had an uphill battle. Between that and the grief they all felt, it was amazing anyone was able to function.

And to top it all off, the full moon was tonight. Jared's thermos of tea was up in the room next to "his" chair. He'd hit it hard in the past week, but while it seemed Morgan's death had stopped other wolves' random shifting, Jared was still drinking as much as he had before and still feeling the urge to shift burning in his veins. It wasn't getting any easier on his stomach, either. If he didn't quit letting nurses find him curled over the private toilet in Jensen's room, he'd end up with a room of his own. The culling wasn’t to start until tomorrow night (provided the animal rights protesters making their way into town from the state university didn't stop it), but it was damn certain to start early if the remaining pack made an appearance tonight. Hopefully they’d be smart enough to drive themselves a few hundred miles away or to lock themselves in a bunker.

Hopefully those protesters would get out of the damn way if they saw a wolf barreling toward them.

Jared bought a coffee and stood outside the hospital with it for exactly fifteen minutes before he went back inside, dutifully inhaling the outdoor air. He bought another and walked to the room.

“How long does it take for your tea to work?” Tom didn’t turn around.

“More than a few hours if you’re thinking about using it tonight.” Jared nudged him with the coffee. “Here.”

“Thanks.”

“Did he do anything?”

Tom’s lip twitched, but his eyes remained weary. “Yeah. He hopped up and did a dance as soon as you left. He just laid back down.” Reaching out, he patted Jensen’s hand. “Wore himself out, poor guy.”

“Asshole,” Jared said, feeling better. Tom’s twitch turned into a proper smile.

“Couldn’t resist.” He took the lid off the cup and inhaled. “Mmm. Institutionalized crap coffee. Just want I needed.”

"I don't know if my tea's working," Jared said after a moment. "I think I'm going to change tonight."

Tom, still seated, looked up at him. "Do you feel sick? It's not natural for you to--"

"Don't start." Jared put his hand up. "I told you I'd go back on it as soon as Morgan's dead. Maybe you don't mind being a murdering bas--"

"I've never killed anyone. Until... recently." Tom launched out of the chair, and Jared took a step backwards, overwhelmed with the way Tom's eyelids shook and the spittle flew from his mouth.

"Sorry. I didn't mean it like that." Jared couldn't meet his eyes, certain they were both thinking the same thing; that Tom had gone his whole life without ending someone else's until he'd had to kill his father, but Jared had his first kill before he hit puberty. The boy from Jared's fifth grade class. Jared had never believed his father was responsible, not really. "I meant, I meant I don't want... to be like that. Inhuman."

"Humans kill too." Tom glanced at Jensen. Jared wasn't sure if he was making a point or if it was a coincidence, but knowing Tom, there were no coincidences.

"Yeah, well.... He's my mate now, so you better watch what you say about him." Jared bunched his fists. He'd never hit Tom before.

"I've mentioned your tea to the pack."

"You had a pack meeting?"

"Believe it or not, the world goes on while you're in here."

"I know that, I just... don't think about it much, I guess."

"I'm not blaming you. It's good that you're here with Jensen."

"Thanks."

"I've been trying to find a solution that will keep people safe on the long term. We've talked about moving the pack."

"You can't--"

"It's an option. Then I thought of your tea. Of course as soon as I mentioned it, the elders who believed me accused me of trying to save my own ass. They figure someone will kill me."

"Tom--"

"I think it too. Everything's a mess out there. But that's not why I think it's a good idea. You understand, don't you?"

"It's the safest way," Jared said. "But it won't do any good this close to the full moon."

"Everyone's on orders to lock themselves up tonight. Jared, I didn't tell anyone it was yours, although with your reputation for working magic with plants, I'm sure it won't be difficult to figure out. Hopefully it'll keep everybody human next moon and after that, we'll see."

"I'm taking four times my normal dose, so I can give you enough for sixty doses. That won't cover everyone. Hell, it'll hardly help a third."

"Make me a dosage chart," Tom said. "And I'll make sure it gets to the ones most likely to be rampaging. For the others, we'll figure something out."

"Are you including yourself on that list?"

"I can take care of myself."

"Sure you can." Jared smiled. "How are you, really?"

"Honestly, I've been better. You should hear the ideas I've had to talk down. Somebody wanted to shift all the humans. Said they won't kill us if they're one of us. He actually had supporters."

"Crap," Jared said.

"Exactly." Tom's gaze trailed down his arms to settle on Jared's hands. He looked back up to Jared's face and said, "How have you been feeling since we killed Morgan?"

"Peachy. You?"

Tom gave a wry smile, letting on he saw through Jared's sarcasm. "I can shift whenever I want now."

"You could always do that." Jared wasn't sure where Tom was going with this and it annoyed him. He wasn't ready to give up his anger yet. He'd had a week at Jensen's bedside with no one to get pissy with except the nurses and he felt bad when he snapped at them.

"It's different now," Tom said. "I think I could still do it when the moon wasn't near full."

Jared's hands relaxed. "Okay, that's weird," he admitted. "I've been feeling, well, like I could do, like if I quit taking my tea, I could shift right now."

"Do you think you could control it?"

Jared shook his head. "I'm out of practice, not that I ever had much control to start with. And I can't afford to shift, not tonight, not with--" He nodded at Jensen. "He needs me."

"Yeah. Listen, sorry I implied he was a mass murderer. I've been touchy lately. And I'm just looking out for you, you know--"

"He is," Jared said, feeling touchy himself. "But I guess he had a good reason for it."

"A good reason?" Tom upended the question into a laugh. "He's bonking insane? One wolf kills his family so he decides to kill all of them?"

"No." Jared looked at Tom, feeling more earnest than he'd been in weeks. "He's just like Morgan. Focused, but for revenge, not killing for kicks, which is what Morgan did. Jensen let himself get blinded to what he was doing. To who he was hurting."

"So we should let it go?" Tom asked.

"I'm not saying that. I just think we shouldn't judge him so fast. And that now Morgan's dead, he won't need to kill anymore."

"So you hope."

"Don't you hope that too?"

"It would mean that I don't have to kill your mate, so, yeah, I hope that too. Anyway--" he shrugged "--County is looking into the Curlicue murders."

Jared's heart stopped. Tom was just now bringing this up? "Are they going to arrest him?"

"In that condition?" Tom gestured at Jensen's comatose form, feeding tube and oxygen mask and all the wires and bandages. "Unlikely. Plus there's the fact that no one can find the evidence records about the case."

"What?"

"Yeah. Weirdest thing. They just disappeared." Tom examined his nails. "I guess they were destroyed in the chaos. Now no one knows who to suspect."

"Are you saying you--" Jared held himself back from hugging Tom, which was another new thing for him, but he didn't think his mate would appreciate it, even if Jensen was unaware. And Jared didn't want it either. He wanted to be good for Jensen.

"Not saying anything except that the records are gone," Tom said. He grinned. "And nobody knows Mr. Knox is here, so I wouldn't expect any troopers to come barreling down the hall any time soon."

"Mr. Knox" was the name they'd used to check Jensen into the hospital, same as the fake ID, credit card, and insurance card Tom had found in Jensen's bag. It was one of about fifteen IDs ("Just in case you didn't know you were dating a criminal," Tom had said, holding them up in a fan formation) and the only name with a complete set of documents one needed for a long hospital stay. The other surviving victims had been taken to La Mer's community hospital, but the paramedics' assessment of Jensen's injuries had resulted in his being helicoptered to a larger hospital fifty miles away where he'd slipped in with little notice.

Jared, needing to touch him somehow, squeezed his shoulder and stepped over to sit on the windowsill before he did more to show his gratitude. “Are you here to help me bust him out?”

“Thought I might. If you wanted the help.”

He and Tom had talked about moving Jensen, but now that they were a few hours from the full moon and the need to shift pulled him so strong, Jared was losing his confidence.

“I don’t know if this is a good idea. Moving him could kill him.”

“As a human, yeah.”

And there was the crux of Jensen’s “miracle”. Not an act of God, but an act of the Alpha. Morgan’s saliva mingled with Jensen’s blood and surged through his veins, keeping him alive and, in a few hours, it would be responsible for his first shift.

“We have to wait until he’s changed,” Tom said, “and then make him follow us out the window.”

“Are you sure he’ll follow?” Jared asked.

“He’ll recognize his alpha.”

“Considering who bit him, are you sure _he’s_ not _your_ alpha?”

“Well then, he can _chase_ us out.”

Jared sighed. "So we wait?"

"We wait."

They waited.

And waited.

The moon stood full in the sky.

Jared guzzled his tea and vomited, guzzled and vomited, did it again until Tom made him stop and led him, shaking, back to the chair.

"You need to shift."

"I can't, I can't I--" Jared blinked through tears until Tom's face came into focus. "I have to be here for him."

"He's not going to shift tonight. We must have been wrong."

"Maybe he's not a werewolf after all?" Jared cursed himself for how hopeful he sounded. Of _course_ Jensen was a werewolf. After a bite like that? If he was still one hundred percent human, then Jared was part cow.

"You sense it don't you?" Tom asked. "You smell it in him?"

Jared nodded. Somewhere, beneath the stench of hospital and almost death and IV bags, there was the earthy iron shaving scent of a new wolf emanating from Jensen's body. "What if he wakes up and hates himself?" Jared asked. He tried not to think of how he'd nuzzled against Jensen's bare cheek when no one was looking, how he'd let his wolf growl in utter contentment at this hint that his mate was here and finally smelling like he should. Knowing how Jensen would feel about becoming the monster he'd hated, Jared despised himself a little for that.

"We need to go. I need to shift too and we'll be safe if we do it up here. There's nothing but fields and forest between here and La Mer, fifty miles all around. We can hide."

"I can't trust myself--" Jared fought to keep his voice from cracking. "What if I do something stupid and get one of us killed? Or kill someone else?"

"One, you're still omega. Killing isn't in you."

"But--"

"No. Extenuating circumstances aside, it's not in you. And I'm going to guarantee there won't be any of those tonight."

"How can you be sure?" Maybe Tom didn't believe Jared had killed his classmate....

Tom looked him dead on, as a slow smile burned across his face. "Because that's the other thing I've figured out. Since we killed Morgan, I don't lose my human mind when I'm a wolf."

"What? Are you saying you've got full consciousness?"

"Almost. I think with more practice I will. So what I'm saying is, follow your alpha and you'll be fine."

"Tom..."

"You trust me, don't you?"

Jared didn't hesitate. "Yes." He glanced at Jensen for a final look. He hadn't moved. "Let's go. Before I throw up again."

Tom clapped him on the back. "Good man."

  
  


****

_"I've never cared about you at all. I've never cared about you. At all. I've never cared. About you at all."_

Morgan paced around Jensen's hospital bed delivering the phrase in practiced inflections. Jensen wondered why it sounded familiar and why Morgan was wearing a yellow hat. It was distracting. Morgan stopped at the foot of the bed. "Funny you settle on that line to get maudlin over. Did I hurt your feelings?"

Jensen wanted to focus on why his family's murderer was having a conversation with him, but his mind wouldn't break from the word "maudlin." He circled it, poked it, tried to dig a meaning up. He knew that word. He knew he knew that word. And yet it wouldn't come. As he stared at Morgan, the man's image blipped like a bad antenna connection. Not sure why, Jensen began to cry.

"Huh," Morgan said. "How about that." He grinned. "Good."

He flicked Jensen's foot. Jensen tried to kick out, but his foot wouldn't move. He didn't know where he was.

Blinding pain exploding in his head. Muscles tight. Spasming. Wanted to scream. Couldn't. No voice. No sight. No... awareness. Nothing except pain. Something high-pitched in his ears, loud. Beeping going crazy. _Fast fast fast._

"He's having a seizure!" A woman's voice. He didn't know what a seezhur was, but it sounded bad, like something he didn't want to have. He cried harder. "How did he pull his feeding tube out?"

Footsteps. Running. He heard it even through the beeping. Heard it as clear as if they are standing next to his bed instead of, he guessed by the fading sound, moving farther and farther away.

_His skin breaks. Feels like it's ripped open. Can't scream. His voice is gone. Convulsions. He doesn't know what his body is doing, how it's moving. If not for the pain, he'd think he was in someone else's body._

"What the hell?" The voices returned, this time joined by a squeaking cart.

The wolf rose up, cool and confident, and darted between them as he ignored their screams and skidded down the too smooth hall toward freedom.

****

In the open air, he could breathe easier, unassailed by the hundreds of scents that lingered inside. Jensen lifted his nose. He wasn't sure what he was searching for, but he knew when he found it. He took off in the direction of the sweet smell. Running came easy to him; it might be the only thing he remembered. Certainly it was the only thing he cared about at that moment, running and finding the source of that scent.

Instinct told him to stay away from bright lights, especially the ones moving toward him. He hunkered into ditches and waited until the lights had washed over his back before he emerged. The scent pulled him out, away from the hard roads onto grass that was dry and sharp beneath his paws and toward trees that grew thick in the distance. Barreling toward that line, he heard rustling ahead and saw a rabbit go flying out of the underbrush, but he stayed on his path and let it pass unharmed. However, another wolf tore out of the forest after it. Jensen hesitated. This wolf smelled familiar, but it wasn't the scent he'd been tracking. He crouched down, paws pushed forward and head low and bared his teeth.

The wolf turned toward him. It stood tall. It took a step toward Jensen. Another. Jensen remained still. He was alpha. This wolf clearly was as well, and one with the advantage, as this wolf obviously knew its place in the pack, whereas Jensen didn't. Memories tripped back to him of traveling alone. He knew then that he didn't have a pack and he had no desire to mix with another's. He rose up and, turning his side to the wolf, moved away while keeping an eye on its unmoving form. However, the further away he moved, the less he could smell the scent he was following. Turning around, he walked up to the wolf. It licked him as if they knew each other. Jensen licked back, quick, and yes, the sweet smell was definitely mingled with a tangier scent that belonged to the wolf. It wasn't unpleasant, but Jensen wasn't besotted with the need to run toward it.

The rabbit, which had been still since the other wolf stopped chasing it, took a run for freedom again. Jensen ignored it as he focused on this curious alpha in front of him. From the same place in the woods that wolf had come, another emerged, running full tilt at the bunny. Jensen backed up, startled, as the sweet smell smacked into his nose. _Mate_. He watched as his mate grabbed the rabbit by the throat and slammed it into the ground. Gaining his senses, Jensen rushed over. At first his mate growled, the rabbit hanging from his jaws, then, just as suddenly, he dropped it and bounded to Jensen.

They frolicked together, the dying rabbit on the ground between them ignored, licking and snapping and nuzzling. Jensen's mind tugged again and he remembered his mate another way, as a man. Tall and tan with brown hair that fell over his ears and down his face. _Jared._ He nipped Jared's neck. Jared crouched down for him. He stood three hands taller than Jensen, but Jensen sniffed Jared and licked him in approval before he mounted.

When the mating was complete, Jared gingerly set the rabbit in front of Jensen and sat down, his tail thumping the ground in an upbeat cadence. Jensen tore into the fresh meat. He glanced over to see if the other wolf would interrupt. ( _Tom._ ) But he was lying down with his back to them, oriented toward the town and the passing lights in the distance. Nudging the rabbit to Jared, Jensen returned the offering. When they'd finished eating, he lay down alongside him and tangled their legs together. Jared made tired licks to Jensen's nose until he fell asleep. Jensen stayed awake. He watched the sun rise over the tree tops. Tomorrow he would hunt for his mate. Tom could help. Together they could fell a deer. What pride he would have to bring such a catch to Jared's feet. The vision tumbled in his mind until at last he fell asleep with that happy thought.

  
  


****

Jensen awoke. He remembered running through grass, his body whole again but transformed. That couldn't be right. He couldn't be a wolf. That would make him a killer, a murderer, a monster. It was a terrible dream, brought on by his vision of Morgan, that was all.

Then he felt the grass pricking him. Wrenching his eyes open, he saw the sky. Clear blue, slow moving clouds. He must have sleepwalked out of the hospital. He tried to sit up. And tried again. He could feel his extremities, fingers and toes. If he concentrated, he could wiggle them, but he couldn't get his brain to cotton onto the bigger picture. He wasn't going anywhere, so how the hell had he made it all the way out here? Wherever "here" was. A soft snuffling distracted him. With all his concentration, he turned his head in that direction. Jared, in his wolf form, stretched to his feet. He didn't seem aware of Jensen. Tom, human again, lay face down a hundred feet away.

Jensen lay still--not that he had a choice--as memories of frolicking with Jared, of _mating with him_ came crystal clear into his awareness. It was true then, he was a wolf. Jared made a horrible sound, a sound so filled with pain and suffering it could have resided in the darkest areas of his soul. It was a noise Jensen wanted to make, but when he opened his mouth, his wounded vocal cords reminded him he had no voice. He imagined Jared crying out for him. However, as Jared pitched forward and vomited up partially digested rabbit meat and fur, it was clear that this was the noise of his transition. Jensen must have gone through the same thing. He had no memory of it--for once something to be grateful for--but his own late night meal was regurgitated a few yards away.

Jared shuttered and shrieked and twisted. His fur fell off in clumps and each loud "crack" indicated a bone breaking and reforming. Jensen closed his eyes. To watch was unbearable. _Take me away. Please. This can't be real._ Hot tears pressed his eyelids, seeking escape. He let them out, but kept his gaze turned from Jared until the noises stopped and Jared, naked, stumbled down beside him. He stretched an arm across Jensen's chest and lost consciousness.

Jensen remembered what Morgan had said to him about being a bad man but a good wolf, and how Jensen had been wrong. He'd spent his revenge seeking it against the wrong species. But now Morgan had his final revenge. Jensen was a wolf. Wherever Morgan was now, he was laughing.

No sooner had the thought come than pain followed it. Jensen's abdomen thrust upwards, raising Jared with it. He opened his mouth for an empty scream. His limbs flailed of their own accord.

"Jensen!" Tom shouted in the distance, but it was too late.

He was changing again. Jensen stared at Tom, who came running. Tom reached him as Jensen's vision turned white and he passed out.

 


	11. Chapter 11

The cage in Jensen's basement was the same type used to keep tigers in traveling circuses. It had belonged to his grandfather, who'd received it from his father, who'd claimed he'd won it in a poker game from PT Barnum himself. One of his ancestors had taken the wheels off it and anchored it to the floor, but the wooden brocade was still attached. It was painted red and yellow with the circus' logo and a tiger leaping out in the center. Jared hadn't used the cage since he'd perfected his tea, but now he'd had to lock Jensen inside every night since he'd brought him home from the hospital. Jensen had never gone back in since his first shift. As far as the hospital was concerned, "Mr. Knox" was a mystery disappearance. They'd clean it up to put it in their reports. Jared didn't care what they wrote, but he was pretty sure it wouldn't mention a black wolf that two nurses on the night shift claimed to have seen. They'd probably say he'd refused further treatment and "wandered off." Put that medical miracle diagnosis to good use on a man who the day before couldn't breathe on his own.

Jensen tried to stick his snout through the cage's bars when he saw Jared looking. Jared reached in and scratched the top of his head. "Be pretty neat if I could shift now so we could have some time together when we understood each other, wouldn't it?" Jensen licked his hand. Sometimes Jared thought that he could understand things as a wolf, same as Tom could now.

"Do you understand me?"

Jensen moved over to the water bowl and started noisily lapping.

"Maybe not." Jared opened the cage and stepped in while Jensen was distracted. He sat down on the mattress, stretching his long legs out across the floor. Jensen trotted over and sat down beside him. He rested his chin on Jared's leg, nudging his hand until Jared started scratching.

It had been Tom's idea to bring him back to Jared's. In the field that day, he'd shifted twenty times, sometimes returning to his other form within seconds. Jared had never seen anything like it. Based on Tom's aghast expression, he hadn't either. The worst of it was, each time Jensen returned to his human self, he was confused and upset. He turned his pleading gaze to Jared one second and shunned him the next. Jared couldn't help but think Jensen held him responsible. He didn't know how much Jensen remembered of what had happened.

Tom had pointed out that with each transformation Jensen's shoulder healed more. Bit by bit the stitches fell out, replaced by new soft skin. "The wolf is healing him. That's the Alpha at work."

He was eating too, as a wolf, even though he couldn't yet as a human, but if he could keep it down it would be enough to sustain him. The biggest improvement, though, was his ability to breathe on his own. Without need for the hospital's machines, he could go home. It might not be ideal for him as a human, but right then they were concerned about Jensen the wolf. The wolf needed protection and he sure as heck couldn't be anyone's in patient. He didn't seem inclined to harm Jared (though he growled at Tom without snapping), so they loaded him up in Jared's truck and made the drive back to Jared's cabin, circling through the back roads to avoid La Mer. He still needed care, though. Jared wasn't about to trust his instincts with someone this injured. Fortunately, he knew a nurse who would understand how to treat a werewolf because she was a werewolf too.

Unfortunately, that nurse was his mother. She and his father had survived the "night of terror", as the media had started calling it. They had done so not out of any heroism but simply by locking their door and shutting themselves into their own basement cages. When Jared called her, it was the first time they'd spoken since Jared had refused to accept the older alpha that his father had tried to force on him as his mate. The conversation hadn't been easy, especially when he'd explained who he wanted her to help-- _"The wolf hunter? Are you insane?"--_ but he'd held his ground. ( _"You wanted me to have a mate. I've got one. Are you going to help me or not?"_ ) and she'd finally agreed.

She taught him how to take care of Jensen. How to feed and bathe him and, because he'd lost control of his bladder, how to diaper and change him. Jensen lashed out as much as he cried. Jared was grateful to have his mother there because she accepted this as a matter of course. He was ashamed how often he needed to slink off and get his own emotions in order or cry a little before he could come back and pretend nothing was wrong as he cared for Jensen.

Jared tried to wait until the last moment before locking Jensen up. If he put Jensen in the cage too soon in the shift, he didn't understand why he was there. Jared did his best to keep him comfortable, but Jensen still cried as he lay on the mattress on the floor. It wasn't a well-appointed cage. Certainly not a Ritz, but it wasn't dark and dank, either. Jared had done the rest of the basement up very nicely. It had a snooker table and dart board and a poster of Antonio Banderas as Che Guevera (which had also hung on Jared's bedroom wall in his parents' house), and a nice leather couch and a sheepskin rug. The cage, though, had none of this because a wolf would destroy it. It had a water bowl and, because Jensen didn't eat solid foods as a human, Jared at first tossed a rabbit in. He stopped doing that after he saw how upset Jensen became when he realized that the timid animal he'd enjoyed watching as a human and sometimes petting if it ventured close enough to his wiggling fingers was destroyed when he regained consciousness. Jared berated himself for the better part of a day over that. He should have known better. Afterwards, he stuck with spoon feeding Jensen pureed food and left the rabbits out of it.

"You know, Jared," his mother said a few days into her stay when he was pretending his eyes weren't red-rimmed, "I don't think you ever fully understood why it's important for you to have a mate. Why your father and I put so much pressure on you."

"Where's Jensen?" Once his mother started on a topic, avoidance was futile, but at least he could try.

"Sleeping." She'd rented a hospital bed for him. Glancing at it against the back wall of the main part of the cabin, Jared relaxed when he saw Jensen nicely swaddled in the white bedclothes, his face slack in sleep.

Jared turned back to his mother. "If I fight my nature, I'm a freak. I know, Mother. You and Dad made that abundantly clear when you tried to mate me off to someone three times my age."

"We... shouldn't have done that."

"No, you shouldn't have."

"But Hector is a good man." She rallied. "And you would have been very happy with him if you'd given him the chance."

"He was good enough to say no to your ridiculous proposal!"

"You watch your tone."

When he was a pup, _her_ tone would have sent Jared backwards in a fumbling attempt to offer his submission, but now it only made him angry. "Don't go getting all alpha on me, Mom. I've got my own now." He nodded at Jensen. "Save it for Dad."

She put her hands up, placating the air and took a deep breath. "What I'm _trying_ to say is that your father and I were never concerned with you 'keeping up appearances'"--she air quoted the phrase--"we were thinking of you."

Jared began to scoff, but her "death-by-looks" expression cut him short.

"In a pack," she continued, "having a mate isn't just a part of order, it's a beautiful part of life. We wanted you to have that. The older you got, the less interest you showed. And we realized that you didn't understand what was truly behind the alpha and omega relationship."

"I don't need anyone bossing me around and telling me to stay at home in the kitchen." Jared thrust his chin up as he battled against memories of the fights he'd had with his parents, all around this topic.

"That's not what it's about." She began to walk in front of the couch, gesticulating in the air as she spoke. "If we did something to make you think that, then I'm truly sorry."

"I see it all the time," Jared said. "All around the pack. It's not just you guys. How many omegas do you know who have college degrees? Hell, how many have jobs? I wanted to be my own man." He thumbed himself in the chest. "I put myself through graduate school and you two couldn't stand it because you didn't think an alpha would want me."

She looked sadly at him. "No, Jared, that's not it at all."

"What then?"

"We thought you wouldn't want an alpha."

"What?"

"You were so independent! Going off on your own and now, living in Grandpa's house instead of staying at home until you find a mate-- we didn't know what to do with you!"

He stared. His mouth opened and closed, lips moving until he finally spat out the words they were trying to form. "You could have just loved me."

"Jared-- We do love you."

"Mother--" It killed him to see her like this, even though she'd been in the wrong.

"But now you have Jensen."

"Yes."

"He'll be a good, strong wolf once the change settles in him."

"Yes."

"But as a man? What do you have? You don't have a mate, Jared. You have a dependent invalid who will never give you what you need. You certainly can't be intimate with him."

"I _need_ to care for another person. Isn't that what omegas do? As for being _intimate_ , I don't care about that." He'd die a thousand deaths before he told _his mother_ he and Jensen had been plenty intimate while they were both wolves.

"Tit for tat, son. Jensen has nothing to offer you. He'll probably never be able to express any gratitude or love to you."

That was a lie. Jensen made his emotions clear, both as a human and as a wolf. "I made him my promise."

"No one will hold it against you if you back out. Think of who this man is that you've chosen. Think of what he's done."

"It's in the past. I'm sworn to care for him and protect him, and I'm going to do that until he gets better."

"Better? Jared, who knows how long that will take?"

"He improves every time he shifts. He waved at me yesterday."

"I wouldn't call his forearm jerking a wave."

"Mom, I need you here for now. Jensen isn't going anywhere and when this is all over, he'll still be my mate, so are you going to support me or not?"

She sighed. "I just want my concerns known."

"Trust me, they're known."

"Then yes, I'll support you." She leveled a stare at him that made Jared brace himself. "For now."

He exhaled. "Thank you."

She walked over to check on Jensen, touching his wrist as if she hadn't spent five minutes trying to talk Jared into leaving him. Jared had seen this too many times in his childhood, the nurse taking over when the mother had nothing else to say. Most werewolves were divided only between human and wolf; his mother had a third shift, to nurse. He watched in frustration before turning to the kitchen. Calming tea would do him good. He set a cup out for his mother too, though he had no intention of drinking it with her. Pulling a fresh batch of chamomile out of the cabinet, he began measuring it into the brewing basket.

"Jared!" His mother's sharp voice cut into his concentration. "You need to get him downstairs."

Jared stopped what he was doing and raced over. On the bed, Jensen was in the beginning stages of a shift. Quickly, Jared shifted him over to a wheel chair, and rushed him out the back door, along the path and around the back of the house where he could wheel him directly into the ground level basement. He pushed him into the cage and eased Jensen out of the chair, struggling to keep Jensen's spasming body from hitting the floor. One hand clocked him in the jaw.

"You heard my mother talking, didn't you?" Jared asked. He didn't expect Jensen to answer, but Jensen looked straight at him and there was no way to doubt the awareness in his eyes.

"Son of a--"

Jensen arched backwards, jerking out of Jared's grip. He managed to fall on the mattress. Jared quickly stripped him naked, backed out of the cage, and closed the door. He could go back in once Jensen had settled into his new form, but for now he risked injury to both himself and Jensen if he stayed. He folded Jensen's clothes and set them on the stand next to the couch. Yanking Jensen's clothes off wasn't dignified, but in the long run, he figured Jensen would prefer that over destroying his T-shirts. He didn't have many clothes to begin with--the duffel held a week's worth--and his shirts all seemed to have been picked up either on the road or at a concert. Today's had the Route 66 symbol on it and a slogan touting a Route 66 rest stop in Missouri. He pitched Jensen's diaper in the trash. It was clean, but he'd probably wet himself during the shift. That wouldn't be his fault. It was the unspoken truth of shifting, same as in death. No one liked to talk about piss. Pulling his phone from his pocket, he texted Tom the updated tally on Jensen's shifting. In the middle of the month, it had finally dropped off to a few a day, spaced far enough apart that he could come out of the cage. After some thought, he added, _I wish I could understand him and know if he understands me._

Tom didn't respond, but Jared hadn't expected him to. Tom was busy with work and the pack. Cleaning up the town and calming the bloodlust for wolves down. The promised culling had happened, but for "unknown reasons" no wolf had been found. No one had thought to link the status of the moon to the wolves' presence, which just showed how blinded people could be to things they didn't want to believe in. When the culling didn't bear any fruits, the animal rights protesters had left and the media soon after. Now all that remained was rebuilding the homes destroyed when wolves ransacked through them, Tom parents' worst of all, and recovering from the loss of life and the not-so-small problem of creating a cohesiveness out of a decimated pack.

He almost jumped when his phone vibrated. In the cage, Jensen, half-formed, lashed at the cage bars with a furred and clawed hand. Jared hummed to soothe him. _No one is sick from the tea yet. Can I come get another batch tomorrow?_

Jared typed, _Sure._

The answer came in seconds. _Will your mother be there?_

Tom felt the same way about Jared's mother as Jared felt about Tom's. Apparently his becoming pack alpha hadn't changed that.

_Yes, probably. Be brave._

_Thanks, asshole. Later._

Jared stopped responding after that. Jared scrolled back up to the phone number. Jensen, finally a wolf, paced along the bars. He growled. Jared got up to let himself into the cage. Jensen flung himself at the bars. Jared stumbled backwards. Jensen attacked the door again, head first, to no avail. "Okay!" Jared flung his hands up. "You don't want company. No problem."

Jensen backed off, snarling.

"Hey man, it's just me." Jared started to put his hand through the cage to see if Jensen would calm down, but when Jensen's teeth caught his sleeve, he thought better of it.

Jared stared at Jensen, trying to catch his gaze, trying to find connection with his mate. Even though Jensen looked at him, there was no recognition. Jared didn't know how much of being a wolf Jensen remembered when he shifted back. Until they figured out a way to communicate, he never would. Most wolves had sporadic shifting their first month, but who knew if Jensen would be like them? Wherever this rage had come from, this was the first time he'd shown it. Jensen's newest development was disturbing to say the least. _One more thing to thank the Alpha for._

Jensen stood on his hind legs, head tilted, trying to chew the bars. Drool ran down his jowls, and his growling didn't stop. "Jensen? It's me. Come on, Jensen. You know me. Mates." He put his hand through the bars, high enough that Jensen would have to jump if he wanted to bite. Jensen stared up. Slowly, his growling calmed and he returned to all fours. "That's it," Jared said. "I'm here. I'll take care of you." Pulling his arm back, he sank down to his knees. Jensen made a tight circle, sniffing, before he sat down against the bars. Tufts of fur stuck through, tickling Jared. He reached through and scratched Jensen's back as Jensen stretched out with a long, loud whine.

  
  


****

At first, the worst part was the crying. He rarely shed a tear before and now every damned minute he was erupting like a geyser. When he wasn't crying, he was dealing with anger that he couldn't express because he couldn't fucking _speak or move_ , which led to more crying. His brain and limbs had some serious synaptic miscommunication going on. For every intentional movement, there were twenty more that surprised him. And he couldn't tell Jared which was which. He couldn't tell him that he'd intended that wave or that he was trying to frown or that he was going to piss himself. Frustration piled on frustration. He hated Jared for putting up with him, hated himself for not dying, hated Morgan even more than before. _Turn the hunter into his own best enemy._ The Alpha's great revenge. He'd gotten it in spades.

Then the whispering started in the middle of the month, after his shoulder had completely healed and the gash on his neck had closed. Jensen couldn't understand what the voices said. Hundreds of them tumbled together in a mix of high and low tones, some rushed, others so slow a single word took a minute to say. Although he heard them as a human, they were clearest when he was shifted, and he paced the cage in circles, stepping over Jared or snapping at him when he got in the way. They called to him, _needed him_ , but he couldn't make them settle into cohesion. He couldn't figure out what they wanted.

He threw himself against the cage doors over and over again, trying to break free, to _get to them_ , but the bars held strong. He felt Jared's human hands on him and he accepted his comfort with his body, but his mind stayed on the voices.

With each shift, the voices grew stronger. His hopes they would balance out were dashed on his next shift to a wolf when he found that the quiet voices had reached the level of a yell and the loud voices screamed at a volume that seemed designed to drive him insane. He couldn't hear Jared yelling, _pleading_ with him to " _Tell me what's wrong, please Jensen! Please!_ " as he dove headfirst against the iron cage again and again.

Jared's mother graduated him from the hospital bed to a high-backed chair. He watched without interest as she secured a strap around his chest to stop him from pitching forward and arranged his feet flat on the floor. He didn't like how his diaper felt and liked it even less when she was the one to change him. Not only was it embarrassing, she didn't arrange his dick right, and he felt smashed. Plus, it made noise whenever he shifted and despite the voices in his head, he could always hear it.

Ava--she'd said he should call her that, even though he couldn't speak--hated him. He had no doubts about that, but she loved her son and had sworn the Hippocratic Oath, so Jensen figured that he was safe from being smothered with a pillow. Although, there were moments when he wouldn't have minded.

Jared drank his tea with renewed drive. When Jared kissed him, soft and light as if they were brothers rather than mates, his breath stank of it, but Jensen found himself inhaling, trying to take in some of its powers. The tea could mute the voices. He was certain of it. He just needed to find a way to get it before they drove him insane. Jared made tea for Ava too, which she sipped with a pinched face, always mumbling "for the pack's security," which seemed to help her keep it down.

Jared didn't look too far from going off the deep end either. His eyes were constantly bloodshot and his hands shook. He never complained, though, and never looked at Jensen with contempt, even though Jensen had ruined his life. Ava had a point--Jared shouldn't be giving up his future for this, but at the same time Jensen was terrified that Jared would see that. If not for Jared, who did he have? His family was dead. He had an aunt, but he hadn't seen her since he was little. She hadn't stepped up when he was orphaned, no chance she'd do it now that he was drooling pit of misery who couldn't control his own body. For this reason, he was grateful to have some control over himself as a wolf. He could show Jared his affection then, could nuzzle him and love him and do everything his stupid human body wouldn't allow him to do.

Concentrating on the voices took all his energy and eventually he gave up on trying to distinguish between them and instead focused on ignoring them. More and more he disappeared into his own mind until he stopped noticing what was going on around him, seeking instead the safe, quiet space in his brain where nothing could find him. There, he wasn't completely alone. Leslie and Stania sat with him, both radiant in their new dresses. He stayed and listened to them talk. What he'd once found unbearable was now something he sought out. These were voices he could distinguish, illusions he could understand, and he welcomed them.

  
  


 


	12. Chapter 12

"Anyone home?" Tom pushed Jared's door open. He winced when the screen door fell off its hinges, remembering that he was to blame for that. It seemed like forever since he'd stumbled into Jared's house after his birthday celebration, seeking comfort for being a year older and drunk off his ass.

"In here," Jared said. He stood at the kitchen sink.

Tom stepped in cautiously and looked around. "Where's your mo--?" Spotting Ava next to Jensen, Tom paused to wipe his feet on the welcome mat. "Hi Ava," he said, trying not to cringe under her scrutiny. As pack alpha, he was ridiculous to be scared of her, but old habits died hard. (As did memories of being boxed around the ears for tracking dirt into Ava's house.) He took a few seconds to study his work boots' ridged soles, wanting to tell her that if she was upset at him for not mating her son, it hadn't been for lack of trying on _his_ part. Glancing at Jared, he caught the amusement mingled with sympathy and shot him a glare. "Nice to see you," he said to Ava.

"Jared told me you broke his door."

"Yes, ma'am," he replied, her tone shoving him back to a time when he wouldn't have dared respond to her any other way.

"Why don't you fix it while you're here? Jared has tools, but he's not handy."

Tom waited for her to add, "Not like a big, strong alpha," and from the silence in the kitchen it seemed Jared was waiting too, but she only smiled with weighted pleasantness.

"I'll send someone over." Now that she'd all but ordered him to do it, he couldn't. He had to show he had control, that he could command someone to fix Jared's damn door.

"I'd prefer it if you--"

"I'll take care of it." He made his tone firm. And in the same tone, but still respectful, added, "Ma'am." He shouldn't have to play these power games here. It was bad enough out in the community, but that was partly his fault. His father was pack alpha so long people didn't remember that he'd started young too. Tom didn't know if his dad had gone through the same challenges, but at least he'd had his mother and siblings to support him. Tom had two dead best friends, a dead mother, and Jared, who had his own problems without Tom coming whining at him.

"Well, that door slams when the wind--"

"Mother?" Jared cut in, weaving her name into the space between her words with caution, as if he'd never interrupted her in his life. She stared at him as if that were true.

"Jared?"

"Would you mind taking a walk?" Jared asked, in a way that made it seem like a mild suggestion rather than an insult. Tom didn't know how he managed it, but Jared's ability to do that was the reason Tom used to let Jared do the talking when they were pups. "I haven't seen Tom for awhile and we have a lot of catching up to do."

She smiled and rose up from the couch. "Sure. A walk sounds very nice." She gathered her jacket and Tom stepped out of the way so she could get past him. "I'll be back in half an hour," she said.

"Thanks, Mother." Jared called after her, but Tom decided the wise course would be to keep his own mouth shut. "So what happened?" he said to Tom. "You said you'd be over 'tomorrow' a week ago."

"I'm sorry." Tom rubbed his forehead and finally stepped all the way inside. "Turns out being pack alpha is a shitty job."

Jared grinned. "Well, welcome to paradise." He gestured around the cabin, taking in the stack of dishes piled in the kitchen sink, the boots stacked at the fireplace, an unmade hospital bed, a coffee table with gardening magazines strewn across it, and the couch, on which Jensen sat in the middle, bolstered up by two stacks of pillows on either side. "Stay as long as you like."

"Thanks." He took a few steps toward Jensen. "Hey, Jensen."

Jensen briefly lifted his gaze, but dropped it before he made eye contact. "Jensen's doing a lot better," Jared said.

"Yeah? That's great." Tom could hear through his lying, but there was desperation behind it, as if Jared needed Jensen's improvement to be true. From where Tom stood, Jensen didn't look like he knew he was in the same room with two other people. He fixed a smile on his face. "Hey, I got you something." Since his text conversation with Jared, Tom had tried to think how to help him, and after some legwork, he had it. If this didn't improve both Jared and Jensen's lives, he didn't know what would.

"What?" Jared continued with his Disney cheerful tone. Tom's stomach turned. He fought the urge to take Jared by the shoulders and shake him.

Tom turned to Jensen. He had a bell tied to his wrist. "Nice bell."

Jensen fixed him with a brief, but deadly, glare.

"Hey, I mean it. I imagine it's useful for getting Jared's attention, right?"

"He hates it," Jared said, "but it's the best thing we've come up with. We're still working on distinguishing betweeen on-purpose rings and muscle spasms, though."

"Well, I've got something that's way cooler than a bell."

"What did you get?" Jared dried his hands and walked over as Tom opened his bag.

"Jensen. Jensen." Jensen's gaze flicked in his direction. Encouraged, Tom pulled the coffee table away from the couch and sat down in front of him. Two issues of Gardening Today cushioned his ass.

"iPad," Tom pulled it from the bag with a flourish. "I had it set up special so you guys can communicate." He turned it on and started to demonstrate. "See? You tap the categories--food, emotion, question words, needs like cold, hot, wet, toilet, and it opens up another category that's more specific until you find the one you need. There's two million words available."

"Wow. Tom, this is amazing."

"And!" Tom put his finger up and tapped Jensen on the knee. "Since I remember what a pleasant guy you are, I added an extra category for you. He flipped the tablet around and pointed to the category called "FU."

"What's that?" Jared asked, with the tone he used when he didn't want to know.

Tom beamed. "Exactly what it sounds like." He tapped it and the screen filled with national flags. "Just tap the flag you want and you get a picture of someone making that country's equivalent of the middle finger." Jensen seemed to light up. "Yep, I figured that would be your favorite part. There's voice assignment too, so it'll talk if you want it to."

"I don't know how to thank you," Jared said. "Or if I should."

Tom shrugged. "No need. Though I'll take the tea if you've got it."

"Sure thing." Jared stood up.

Tom stayed with Jensen. "You want to try this?"

Jensen reached out a flat hand and slapped it. "Mongolia, excellent choice," Tom said. A photo of a fist, seen from the back, with the person's thumb pushed between the index and middle fingers appeared. Jensen smiled. His throat moved like he was trying to make noise. For all the healing the shift had given him, it hadn't returned his voice. "Yeah, it's pretty funny," Tom affirmed. "You can flip me off in any culture. Want me to show you how to get to the start?"

He waited until Jensen's head twitched. It wasn't quite a nod, but he seemed to do it with intent, so Tom took it as one. "Okay, you just tap this corner here." He pointed and after a few seconds, Jensen hit it. He didn't have any control on the pressure he used. "Huh," Tom said, "we better make sure this thing's anchored down for you, huh?"

Jensen met his gaze again, leaving Tom no doubt that he understood. He didn't know the status of Jensen's mental state, if he was brain damaged as the doctors said he should be or if he was in there, trapped but whole. But he hoped this new tool would help draw him out and in doing so Jared could get some of Jensen back. He'd brought it over more for Jared than Jensen, and he suspected that if Jensen was in control of his faculties he understood that. Jensen started tapping again. Food. Drink. Tea.

"Jared? He wants tea?"

"What kind?" Jared asked from the kitchen.

"What kind?" Tom asked.

Jensen glanced at the options. Green or black. He pushed the return to start button. Food. Drink. Tea. And again. Food. Drink. Tea. Food. Drink. Tea. The bell jangled erratically.

"Jay?" Tom put one hand on Jensen to stop him. "I think he wants your tea." He turned to Jensen. "Do you want Jared's tea that stops him from shifting?"

The top of each page had large red and green icons. No and yes. Jensen dragged his hand over the tablet and stopped at the green. He slapped it.

"He says 'yes'," Tom said.

Jared came over and sat next to Tom. He took Jensen's hands. The bell rattled and Jensen's face scrunched in annoyance. "It'll make you sick like me. Do you want that?"

Jensen jerked a hand free to slap the iPad. _Yes_.

"You'd rather be sick than be a wolf."

_Yes._

Jared leaned back. "Okay."

Tension drained from Jensen. He sagged into the pillows. His face filled with relief.

"Can I talk to you alone?" Tom asked. Jared glanced at the kitchen and headed over. Tom followed. "Are you sure that's a good idea?" He kept his voice down.

"No."

"Then why--"

Jared reached the back counter, as far from Jensen as he could get. Tears hovered in his eyes when he faced Tom. "He tried to kill himself."

"What?" Tom couldn't keep the shock out of his voice.

"In the bath. He tried to drown himself in three inches of water. If he wants to not be a wolf that badly, then I'm going to help him." He glanced at Jensen, who was engaged with his new toy. "God knows I understand it."

"We still don't fully know what Morgan's bite did to him, aside from healing him quickly," Tom said. "It could be that he's going to shift no matter what he does."

"Yeah, and it could be that it did something to his mind, too. It could be _torture_ for him right now and maybe he'd rather have a stomachache over whatever he's facing. The tea works against hormones, Tom. It might be able to tame some of what Morgan did. If it can do that, even a little, then I'd say it's worth it." Jared's voice grew steadily louder, but it was still a whisper.

"How do you think it's working for you?" Tom asked. "Is it doing what you need it to or just making you sick?"

"He's got the iPad now," Jared said, ignoring the question. "Jensen can tell us whether it works or not. Why don't you go turn the voice setting on?"

"In a minute. I need to talk to you about something else."

"What?"

"When was the last time you went out?"

"I was in the garden yesterday. I wheeled Jensen out to sit on the porch."

"When were you last in _town_?"

"I haven't been."

"We're having a meeting tonight. I'd like if you came. I want you to talk about Jensen."

"I don't think I can."

"I don't want you living like this, Jay. You have to get out. See people. In order for you to do that, the pack needs to know about him."

Jared handed him a plastic container he'd packed with baggies of dry tea. "Here. For tonight."

"Think about it? That's all I'm asking."

"Thought you were asking me to come."

"Aim high." Tom forced a grin. As he took the tea, Jared's hand slipped into his in the transition. When Jared didn't let go, Tom squeezed. It was an automatic reaction, and he regretted it once his mind caught onto it. Looking up, he found Jared staring at him, his expression open and his face pale. "I, uh, I better go."

"Tom..." There was nothing but resignation there. Jared knew he shouldn't have grabbed Tom's hand.

Pulling away, he made for the door. He felt like a first class asshole for fleeing, but he wasn't _allowed_ to comfort Jared anymore, pack alpha or no, and knowing that, knowing that he had to leave Jared in such obvious need, _killed him_. "See you guys." _Lamest departure ever._ Tea in hand, Tom stumbled toward his patrol car and tore away as fast as it would take him. He didn't notice that he'd almost run Ava down until he sighted her in the rearview mirror demonstrating that she knew a healthy assortment of international rude gestures herself. Rather than pull over, he opted to put his personal safety first and kept on.

  
  


****

Jared sat in his truck in the church parking lot. He was late. Bad enough to walk in after everything that had happened, but to do it in the middle of the meeting? He'd rather die. Still, he didn't have much choice. Jensen needed him to go in there. After Tom had left, they'd looked at the iPad together and discovered that it also featured icons of each of their names, Jared, Jensen, and Tom. Jensen had tapped the 'Tom' icon and refused to stop. When Jared had apologized for holding Tom's hand, Jensen had stared at him like he was an idiot, so Jared was at a loss. Jensen finally flung the iPad at Jared's head. Fortunately, he caught it before any damage was done.

So now here he sat, while Jensen was at home with Jared's mother, hopefully being fed chilled tea and not getting sick from it. Jared had driven through town with special care, half expecting someone to leap out or for the town to look different. Nothing signaled what La Mer-sur-Plaines had been through since Morgan had come to town. Even the Curlicue had reopened. A teenager was behind the counter when Jared drove past, propped up on her elbows, phone held between her hands.

 _Come on, Jay, you're a grown up. Get inside._ It was a half-assed pep talk, but it worked to get him out of the truck. He counted the steps he took into the church, walked past the sign for "La Mer Wolves Team Meeting" and pushed the door open into the meeting hall. He swallowed a gasp. Here was the proof that tragedy had happened. Instead of a packed house with people standing along the wall for lack of chairs, the pack members present were clustered into chairs near the stage, leaving rows empty at the back and sides. Tom was at the podium and a heated discussion was going on between him and a handful of betas. Jared looked for his father and found him seated apart from the others. An empty chair beside him was probably meant for his mother. Jared started for it, but reversed his course when his father glared. Instead, he took the seat closest, realizing too late that he'd sat down next to Paula.

"Sorry for trying to kill you," she whispered.

"It's okay. I know you didn't mean what you said."

"No, I did," she said earnestly, "but I didn't mean to be violent about it."

"Oh." Not knowing how to respond, Jared faced the stage.

"If you haven't been into the library because of that--" Paula continued. Jared squared his shoulders and tried to look like he was engaged in the debate.

"Can we table this?" Georgia asked, standing.

"No, we are not going to table it," Tom said. "We are going to _bury_ it. I told you all at the last meeting that we will not be running around biting La Mer's humans--"

"They won't kill us if they're one of us!" Dirk shouted, standing next to his mate Georgia.

"No." Tom shouted so loud the podium trembled. Gathering his composure, he said, "It's not going to happen. Jared? You're up."

The arguing stopped as heads swiveled in his direction. Jared tried not to trip over his chair or curse. He made his way to the stage. Tom stopped him as he climbed the three steps up.

"Sorry, I panicked. They won't get off the damn topic. But you can do this. You're good for it and I'm right here to back you up."

Tom looked like he'd been raked over the coals, but Jared decided not to mention that. He forced a smile instead. "Thanks." Straightening his back, he walked to the podium. The desiccated pack staring up at him did so without welcome. Although Jared had done public speaking in his graduate courses, it was never in front of a hostile audience. The pack still blamed him for protecting Jensen from Morgan. After everything that had happened, they still believed that Morgan wouldn't have destroyed them if they'd thrown Jensen to them.

"Hello." He cleared the catch out of his throat and tried again. "Hello. I've come today to ask the pack for its support. I have news regarding the hunter, Jensen Ackles." Growls filled the room. Jared glanced at Tom, who stood at the side of the stage, arms crossed in a way that made his muscles bulge; prime intimidation pose. He stared expressionlessly out to the crowd. "He, um, he was gravely injured in the battle when the Alpha attacked him. He lost his ability to speak. His movements are sporadic and without coordination. He can't transport himself or manage any of his daily living needs..."

"So what?" Alex shouted.

"If you're looking for volunteers to put him out of his misery, I volunteer," yelled another. "I know your pretty omega hands don't like pulling a trigger."

"No," Jared said, raising his voice. He took a breath. "What I'm trying to say is, Morgan bit him. He's a werewolf now. One of us. And he's staying with me. I'm here to ask you all for your help and your understanding. I'm here to ask for the assurance of his safety."

"He brought Morgan on us," Dirk said.

"He _followed_ Morgan here," Jared said. The need to defend Jensen was stronger than his nerves, and he answered with new confidence. "Whatever reason Morgan came, I don't know. But he's dead now and we need to move on--"

"Do you think I should move on, young man?" The woman's voice stood out, remarkable for how quiet it was, how restrained, in this room where everyone shouted. Jared looked toward it and saw Agatha Hooper, wife of Ed, mother of Leslie, seated with her hand raised. She lowered it onto her floral dress-covered lap. "The hunter killed my family before we knew the Alpha was here. You want me to move on from that?"

"There's no evidence that he--" Jared started.

"Don't," she said. "Just don't."

As much as Jared wanted to keep up his denials and keep Jensen safe from the investigation that would follow if he acknowledged Agatha's question had validity, he couldn't very well look a grieving woman in the eyes and lie to her. So he looked at Tom. Tom walked over and whispered, "No one's going to prosecute Jensen now. It's okay."

Nodding his understanding, Jared faced Agatha again. "I can't tell you how to feel, but I can tell you that he's sorry. He regrets every death." Jared wasn't sure if that was true, but he figured Jensen would have gotten to that point, given that by the night of the attack he'd already been willing to let Jared live and had fought alongside wolves. "I can't ask forgiveness on his behalf. I won't insult you for doing that, but I'm asking you to understand that he was a victim too. Morgan _killed_ his family."

"So that gives him a license to hate all werewolves?" Alex asked. "That sounds logical."

"I'm not saying it's logical. I'm just saying that's what happened. Look, we've just been talking about converting the humans so they won't kill us. I'm asking you, isn't the reverse true? Aren't we bound to not harm him now that he's one of us?" The grumbling was more of a mixed bag this time. Encouraged, Jared said, "He isn't a danger to any of us. He needs care. I'm doing the best I can, but I need help."

Robert stood up. "None of this would have happened if someone had mated you ten years ago."

"We're not talking about ten years ago," Jared said.

"I declare my claim," Robert said.

Jared blinked. "What?" Robert was the beta wolf Jensen had punched out in Tom's parents' kitchen for hitting on Jared.

Robert started for the stage. "I declare you my mate, whether you like it or not, under the claiming rules of the pack. I'll show you your place. All the damn trouble you've caused--"

Jared backed away, light-headed. _This isn't happening._ "You... you can't do that--"

"Hells bells I can't."

"Robert, sit your drunk ass down," Alex yelled. Jared was relieved to see a few people shouting in assent, but Robert kept coming.

"Pete," he called to Jared's father, ""You approve of this claiming or not?"

"He, he's an omega, he can't give approval..." Jared backed into Tom's chest. Grateful, he fumbled for his hand.

"He can give approval because he's your father, still superior to you, even if you weren't omega," Robert said. "Whadaya say, Pete?"

"If I wasn't omega, we wouldn't be having this ridiculous--"

"I approve," Jared's father cut him off, "on behalf of myself and his mother."

"I'm already mated," Jared yelled. His mother hadn't told him if she'd informed Pete of that, but Jared couldn't imagine she hadn't... unless the idea of him and Jensen together was so shameful she'd kept it to herself. "So sit back down."

Robert had one foot on the steps. He didn't move. "Like fuck, son. Who are you mated to?" He scanned the crowd. "Put your hand up if you've tamed La Mer's wild omega."

Jared stared out. _Shit._ He'd dug himself into a bigger hole. He couldn't say he was mated to Jensen. After the pack's reaction to his plea for clemency, they'd want both their heads on a spike. Tom squeezed his arm and wrapped his other arm around Jared's chest. "Just go with this, okay?" he whispered.

Jared nodded.

Tom guided him back to the podium. Holding Jared close, he said, "Jared is mated to me."

Instead of the gasp Jared expected, and which he suppressed, the response was silence.

"I haven't said anything," Tom continued, "because as pack alpha I'm expected to produce heirs. Obviously, that won't be happening now. In light of everything going on, I didn't want to ignite another scandal. But Jared and I are together and we're very happy. So, that's that. Robert, sit down. I'm going to let Jared get back to Jensen, who _no one will touch_. I don't care if you agree. As pack alpha, I command it." He unpeeled himself from Jared and kissed him on the cheek. "See you at home, honey," he said, loud enough for everyone to hear.

"Thanks," Jared said, much quieter. Seeing that Robert was still on the steps, he jumped off the stage in the middle and did his best not to sprint for the door or knock into anyone in his haste to get out.

  
  


****

Jared sat in his truck in the church parking lot. He'd gotten as far as turning the ignition on before his hand fell away from the key. He sat, listening to the seat belt's incessant chime and the radio, tuned to La Mer's closest local station play a "song of inspiration." He'd put the station on more for the news than the music, but after what had happened in there, he didn't feel like changing it.

Tom had claimed him, just like he used to drunkenly threaten that he would. And even though Jared had always talked him down from it, even though they'd laughed about it after, Jared wasn't laughing now. He was crying. Tears streamed down his face. He didn't know when they'd started, but he didn't try to stop them. Being in Tom's arms had felt _good_. Shame bubbled up in him. He was a mated wolf. He wasn't supposed to react this way to someone else. But he'd reached out to Tom for comfort twice today, blindly seeking him and each time _Tom had been there_.

When they'd joked about mating, it was never played out to be like this. The worst of it was, even though Tom's claim had only been for show, Jared wanted it to be true. He couldn't, wouldn't, give up Jensen, but he needed Tom just as much. Jensen was Jared's mate, his destiny, but Tom was and had always been Jared's rock. With Jensen's condition, Jared felt like he'd been standing on an ice flue, waiting for the wind and water to chip it away until it broke apart and sent him sprawling into the water. He needed Tom to keep him on solid ground.

Finally, the repeated chime became too much for him to ignore. Buckling up silenced it, so he did that and wiped his eyes with his sleeve. A single pole light cast a lonely glow over the cars in the lot. His stomach grumbled. It had been a long time since he'd abandoned his half-eaten lunch because Jensen had decided to spit up everything Jared tried to feed him and shoved Jared away when Jared tried to comfort him. Jared pulled forward out of his unmarked space on the white gravel and started for home. Maybe his mother had convinced Jensen to eat. Clutching the wheel, he remembered Tom's arms around him and relaxed until he remembered that Tom would be over after the meeting and he'd expect Jared to talk about his feelings because _poor little omega who happens to be six-five still needs to self-express_ and then Tom would feel compelled to do some supportive-but-not-really-getting-it alpha thing that he'd railed against in the past, but now he had to keep up appearances, and then he'd leave and Jared would tuck Jensen in and go to bed alone.

Jared couldn't fucking wait. His temper rose as the drive went on. When he got home, he slammed through the (fixed) front door. (Tom had sent someone, as promised.) His mother looked up, startled, before she spotted Jared and her expression changed to disapproval. She sat at the dining table with Jensen strapped into his chair. The iPad lay on the table in front of him.

"Jared, are you trying to break that door again?"

"Sorry," Jared said, knocking his boots free of dirt. "Did Jensen eat?"

"Just the tea. This," she motioned to the iPad, "is a wonder. Show Jared what you can do."

Jensen tapped and soon a male voice emerged from the tablet saying, "Two fingers upraised in a V-shape, palm facing the user, United Kingdom."

Jared bit back a grin. "That's great."

His mother sighed. "I taught him how to make it say, 'Hello, Jared.'" She turned to Jensen. "You're hopeless."

Jensen's mouth twitched.

"He's smiling." Jared walked over and kissed him on the cheek. "See, Mother? He's teasing you."

She huffed. "Well, I need to get home. How was the meeting?"

Remembering how his father had been so eager to pair him off, Jared said, "Does Dad know about Jensen?"

"Yes, why?"

"Because Robert tried to claim me today and Dad gave his approval."

"Excuse me?"

"You heard me."

"Well, he can't do that. You're already mated."

"I know that, but it was hostile in there and it wasn't safe to say--" He hesitated and glanced down at Jensen. This was not a conversation to have in front of him. His mother seemed to agree because she stood up and moved over to the door to gather her purse and coat. Jared followed her over.

"Are you all right?" she asked.

The question touched him. He couldn't remember when she'd last asked him that. "Tom took care of it," he said. "I'm fine now."

She stared at him a long moment, her gaze taking in his eyes, nose, mouth, neck, and shoulders piece by piece, as if she'd find his lie if she broke him down into manageable bits. "You know, Jared, it's not unheard of for an omega to have two mates. It's not common, but it's not unheard of."

"How did you know?"

She touched his arm, another outreach of affection that discomfited him for its rarity as much as it comforted him. "I've been around."

"Tom's coming over after the meeting to end it."

"Don't let him. He needs this just as much as you do."

"But you don't like Tom."

"I don't like him because he's been a spoiled playboy--"

"He's not--"

"--who should have mated you ten years ago."

"I had a choice in it too, Mother. Tom and I weren't fated."

She gave him a tight smile. "Your problem, Jared, is you've always been so damned literal. Now go get him."

"But Jensen--"

"Needs you to have what you need so you can give him what he needs." She stopped short of pulling him into a hug, and when she left, Jared closed the door after her and stood there with his hand on, feeling unmoored.

 _Jared_ , the iPad said.

He turned. Jensen's gaze was focused on him, though his head had dropped to one side. Jared walked over to adjust his neck rest. "So, you're probably wondering what that's about."

_Tea. Tea. Tea._

"Okay, tea," Jared agreed. "Then we talk."

  
  


****

Jared's tea worked miracles. Already the voices had settled to a dull roar in Jensen's head and he could almost distinguish between them. More importantly, he could almost ignore them. Less easy to ignore? Jared. Jensen didn't see what the big deal was. Jared obviously needed Tom, and Tom wasn't a bad guy. He could have tortured Jensen, but he hadn't. Instead, they'd had a civil chat while they waited for Morgan to strike, and now Tom had brought the iPad, which had led to Jensen _finally_ getting Jared's tea, so, all told, Tom was in Jensen's book.

But Jared was too busy wearing a path in the hard wood flooring going back and forth in front of the table to notice that Jensen was doing his best to convey with his face that Jared was an idiot. Jared went on and on and on about how when Tom had "claimed" him it was only "as a last resort" and "to save me" and that Jensen shouldn't "think Jared or Tom meant anything by it" because "You're my mate, Jensen, and I'd never do anything to jeopardize that."

Like Jensen gave a flying fuck about werewolf protocol. Sure, he might be one now, but he had other things to worry about, like the voices in his head and the fact that he _couldn't fucking speak or control his own limbs._ Tom was a _good_ thing for Jared, and that meant he'd be good for Jensen too. It didn't take an idiot watching them together to know they needed each other. Jensen had seen it in their interactions when he was tied up in Tom's basement, and today when Jared had grabbed Tom's hand.

Jensen glanced down at the iPad. He'd tried to tell Jared earlier, but making it repeat "Tom" a hundred times hadn't worked to get his point across. Jared had apparently thought Jensen was upset about the hand holding. Tuning Jared out, he turned his attention to the touch screen.

_"You know," Leslie said, pulling up a bench inside his brain and straddling it, "You need to figure out how to type. Is there a keyboard option?" She craned her neck, as if she could see out of Jensen's own damn eyes._

_"Fuck off,"_ he said in his mind. _The way she was sitting made her dress rise up to mid-thigh. He averted his eyes._

_"Seriously, Les," Stania said, appearing on the other end of the bench with a daisy in each of her french braid pig tails, "How's he gonna type? He don't have coordination like that."_

_"See?" Jensen said,_ and then wondered why he felt triumphant over something he couldn't do.

_"Fine." Leslie crossed her arms. "Don't take my help. Maybe you'd prefer Stania and I go and leave you alone with the werewolf voices."_

_"The what?"_ Jensen hesitated.

 _"Oh come on._ Everyone _knows that the Alpha has a connection to every werewolf."_

_"I'm not Morgan."_

_"No, but you got bit by him. Welcome to Crazy Town." She gave him a mental slap on the back._

_"Been there for years, girl."_ Jensen shrugged her off. It probably looked like a twitch to Jared. Sure enough, Jared's warm, real, hand touched him.

"Jensen? You don't have to worry, okay? Because Tom and I--"

Jensen shrugged him off too. _Concentrate on Tom. Ignore the teenagers in his head, and everyone else too. Werewolf voices? Just what he needed. He'd take his ability to figure that out as more proof the tea was helping, though._

He stared at the iPad. When the solution hit him, he wanted to bang his head on the table over how stupid and blind he'd been, but he couldn't because he was strapped to the chair. Jared had stopped pacing when he'd grabbed Jensen, so Jensen had his full attention when he tapped _Tom_ and _Yes_ and _Jared_ and _Yes_ and _Jensen_ and _Yes_.

"Jensen?" This time Jared's questioning tone held curiosity instead of concern.

Jensen went through the movements again. Figuring he couldn't do it again, he pulled his hand into his lap and waited for Jared to get it.

"All of us together?" Jared said. "Is that what you want?"

Jensen jerked, a nod.

"I... I..." Jared crouched in front of him, moving Jensen away from the table. "I want that too."

Jensen accidentally smacked Jared in the head trying to pat him, but he got it right the next time, and Jared snaked his arms around Jensen's waist and hugged him. His tears soaked through Jensen's De La Soul shirt, making his belly uncomfortable and itchy. He was glad when Tom knocked on the door. Now they could put this idiocy behind them.

"Am I interrupting?" Tom asked. He stepped inside while Jared was untangling himself from Jensen.

"Jensen and I have a proposal." Jared stood up. Jensen did his best to be attentive. He didn't want to miss the inept emotional fumbling that was about to play out. This would be better than Ava's soaps.

"Okay." Tom sounded hesitant. "Look, Jared, you know that today was just me stepping up as your best friend. I would never claim you like that. I respect and love you too much--"

"I know," Jared said. "Which is why I'm claiming you."

"What?" Tom backed into the wall with such rapid force that Jensen wondered if a strong crosswind had blown through the cabin and only caught Tom.

"Jensen and I are claiming you. I spoke to my mother about it." Jared spoke with unwavering precision. He hadn't moved from right next to Jensen's chair, despite his talk about claiming Tom. Jensen wasn't sure if that was his choice to show that he and Jensen were in this together or if Jared had sacrificed the ability to lift his feet for the confidence he was showing.

 _Go get him!_ Jensen gave Jared a mental cheer. Jared glanced down at him, looking alarmed, but he quickly turned back to Tom.

_"He heard you," Leslie said._

_"Not now." Jensen scolded her._

_"If you think something loud enough, the wolf you want will hear you."_

_"Shut up," Jensen said._ That was what Morgan had done, planting ideas in werewolves' heads, making them insane. He'd fucking kill himself before he did that. For once, he was glad for Stania and Leslie to keep him distracted from-- _holy shit_ \--developing telepathy. ( _"I'll take 'the crazy I came in with' for $10,000, please.")_ He checked if Jared had reacted to that, but Jared stayed focused on Tom.

Tom lost three shades of color in his face. "You spoke to your _mother_?" To Jensen's mind, after spending so long with Ava, that squeak was justified.

Jared carried on as if he hadn't noticed. "And she said that it's not unheard of. We care about each other, we need each other, and Jensen approves, so why not?"

"Why... not?" Tom's mouth chewed air. "How would this work, for starters? Jensen and I would share you?"

Good point. Jensen hadn't fully thought that through. Tom would want to _have sex_ with Jared, and Jared would want to have sex with Tom. Would Jensen be okay with this? He mulled it over. Meanwhile, Jared seemed to have missed Tom's point (or Jensen had), because he said,

"To put it simplistically, yes. I'm not saying it'll be easy, but we'll work it out."

"What if I want to have sex with you?" Tom asked, bringing the real question to air.

"Oh," Jared said. He seemed at a loss. He glanced from Jensen to Tom. "Um."

Well, the original point of this was get Jared some comfort, wasn't it? And wasn't sex something that a big tactile lug like Jared would use for comfort? The man _cuddled_ for God's sake. Jensen couldn't take this away from him. He tapped the iPad until a cartoon of two people popped up, waited until they'd seen it, and tapped their names. Then he did the same with a picture of wolvese and his and Jared's name.

"So, we can have sex when we're people," Jared said, "and Jensen and I will have sex when we're wolves."

"When do you and I have sex?" Tom asked Jensen.

Jensen heard the teasing in his tone and responded on the iPad with a rude gesture from Greece. Tom laughed. "Never, it is."

Jared leaned over to look. "I thought thumbs up was good?"

"Read the caption," Tom said.

"'Up yours.' Oh, geez."

Jensen twitched out a smile. Tom's rude gestures of the world application was the best tool on the iPad.

"You're dropping the tea?" Tom asked Jared. Jensen had wondered the same thing before Tom had distracted him.

"I'll cut back. Since we killed Morgan, it won't stop me from changing, but at least it keeps some of my symptoms under control. I don't need to quadruple my dosage for that. I could go back to a normal dose. My intestines will thank me. So, what else?" Jared spread his hands, palms up, curled his fingers up and wiggled them. After discovering what thumbs up meant to the Grecians, Jensen fought the urge to scroll through his application for that gesture. It had to be rude somewhere. Just look at it. Wiggling fingers? _Please._ "Come on," Jared said, "lay out all your problems with this awesome plan."

"Well, because, because, I need an heir." Tom said.

"So adopt. Or, I don't know? Surrogacy? This doesn't end your options."

"Jared, I'm not a big fan of picking out a kid to kill me, or of explaining to a potential surrogate that's what the kid she'll carry is for."

"Then end it," Jared said. "We both know you hate the idea. If your dad hadn't been about to kill me, you wouldn't have killed him. You'd have talked him into stepping down."

"I couldn't have done that. It was too important to him."

Jensen cringed. Tom had to deal with a dead parent _and_ with killing that parent? That sucked. Maybe he should be more messed up than Jensen, but he'd been raised into it, so even though he hadn't wanted to do it, it was still normal for him. Morgan had redefined Jensen's normal.

"All right," Jared conceded, "but now you can. You're pack alpha, Tom. You can do whatever you want. You could hold elections!"

"Elections?" Tom sounded amused. "Yeah, I guess I could. Of course it's not very _traditional_..."

Jensen had a bladder full of tea to contend with, a wet shirt sticking to his stomach, and the bottom of the chair moulded to his ass.  These two morons were drawing this out too long. _Hurry the fuck up._ They both jerked around to stare at him. _Shit._ He banged "Yes" as fast as he could on the iPad.

"Okay," Tom said, still looking at Jensen. "Yes."

"Yes?" Jared asked. He took a step toward Tom.

Tom faced him. "Yes."

Jensen watched them come together and embrace on the other side of the table. Tom glanced at Jensen as if to ask permission. Jensen tapped "Yes" again, and Tom kissed Jared. Jensen let them have their moment and then, lest they forget that he'd once had a reputation as a remorseless bastard, made the electronic voice say, "Toilet," and chuckled in his mind as Jared hopped into action to steer him into the bathroom.

"You need help?' Tom asked.

"Got it," Jared said. He leaned down to Jensen's ear. "Asshole," he said without malice.

Jensen grinned.

Later, he lay in bed and listened to Tom claim Jared. Jared's moans from his bedroom made Jensen's groin tighten, but he didn't try to touch himself. It didn't feel right, not yet, for him to get off on this. Jensen could see out the kitchen window. He watched the moon as he listened to Tom's soft grunts that occasionally turned into Jared's name. It glowed almost full. In a few days, he could mate Jared himself. He debated the merits of interrupting them now by electronically calling out for a glass of water, but decided against it when he weighed the possibilities of Tom coming out naked, probably with the condom still on his dick, against a bow-legged Jared responding to his call, and figured Tom was more likely since Jared sounded like he'd forgotten how language worked.

He flopped onto his side. Tomorrow, then. He'd already been enough of an asshole for today.

_"We're proud of you," Stania said. "Tom and Jared deserve this."_

_"They're super in love," Leslie said, looking earnest._

_"Shut up," Jensen replied, but he only half-meant it. "I know."_

_The girls settled down next to a campfire. "Good, because we thought you were thick."_

_Jensen couldn't think of a reason to argue. "Hey, uh, I'm sorry I killed you."_

_"We know," they said._

_"Oh. Good."_

_The girls roasted marshmallows. Jensen declined Leslie's offer to make him a s'more and listened until their voices guided him into sleep._

 


	13. Chapter 13

Epilogue

It seemed a lifetime ago that Jared had spilled his books on Jensen's library table and mischievously asked if he was being watched. On a trip home from the hospital for one of Jensen's appointments, Jared had spotted a two hundred pound pink quartz rock at a roadside sale. He'd paid $400 for it, brought it home, and dropped it on top of the grass at the back of his property line.

Now the wild flowers had taken over. The rock tumbled with Great Blue Lobelia, Wild Lupine, Bergamot, Dotted Mint, and Evening Primrose. Jared tended them, though with less structure than he gave his garden. He liked the haphazard growth, liked how the flowers didn't respect any boundaries. The plants closest to the pink rock crept up over and around it, wrapping it in color. He stared at it as he did the dishes, sometimes rubbing his sponge over the same plate a dozen times before he noticed.

"Ow!" He didn't need to look to know Jensen's wheelchair had bumped his leg. For a second, he thought Jensen had done it on purpose, but when he turned, Jensen's head was lopsided on his shoulder and his eyes were turned to the ceiling with no evidence that he was looking at anything. Jared eased Jensen's hand away from the small knob that controlled the chair's movements. Jensen made a soft sound as Jared lifted his hand up and kissed it. "Hey. What did we say about crashing into me? You're a menace. No wonder they don't let you out on the roads."

Jensen's other hand tapped at the iPad resting on his lap. " _Beer me."_ Jared had chosen the electronic voice that sounded the most like Jensen's, though he wasn't sure if that was for Jensen's benefit or his. Sometimes it seemed to depress Jensen to hear a man's deep sex-on-two-legs voice saying the words he couldn't. He'd learned to change the voices on his own. The current choice was a woman's light Scottish brogue.

"You know, I could remind you that I told you I wouldn't wait on you hand and foot," Jared said as he went to the refrigerator. He opened a can of Pabst which, for some unknown reason was Jensen's favorite. Maybe it was a relic of a life where he had to get by on fumes and pennies. He draped a tea towel over Jensen's Black Eyed Peas shirt and tipped the can to his lips. Jensen was getting better at getting his lips and tongue to work together, but a decent portion still dribbled onto the towel. "You're doing good," Jared said.

Jensen tapped his iPad until a full screen picture of the back of a hand extending its middle finger appeared. Since Tom had given him the iPad, Jensen had used every country's bird-equivalent twice.

Glancing out the window, Jared saw Tom's car pulling up the drive. "Tom's home."

Jensen responded by rolling his chair into the counter. Jared backed him up and aimed him at the living room. He pulled a gallon-sized tupperware out of his freezer and set it on the kitchen island that separated the rooms. The herbs inside it gave it a cheerful green look. Tom let himself in. He waved at Jared and crouched down to greet Jensen. Jensen tapped the iPad.

 _Fuck off,_ the Scottish lady said.

"Okay," Tom said. He squeezed Jensen's shoulder. "Missed you too."

"How was work?" Jared asked.

"Quiet," Tom said. "You guys all set for tonight?"

"Shifting outside?" Jared grinned. "Jensen can't wait."

"What about you?"

"Yeah, me too."

Tonight was the first time Tom had thought it was safe enough to spend the night outside. Most of the pack had stopped taking Jared's tea. Jared and Tom had talked about sticking close to home despite the supposed lack of danger.

"I'm going to leave you and Jensen to it tonight, all right? I should be with the pack."

"Sure. And by 'it', you mean...?"

 _I'm gonna mate you so good..._ For a second, Jensen's voice popped into Jared's mind, but it disappeared as fast. That happened from time to time; Tom had noticed too. _Remnants of the Alpha_. Tom had confided that if Jensen started using his ability to connect to other wolves in the same way Morgan had, he would kill him. "We can't have another Morgan," he'd said, and after everything, Jared had agreed. So far, Jensen's own thoughts, mostly commentary, had crossed into their minds, and it was _nice_ to hear his voice again. Jared wanted to ask what it was like for Jensen in his own mind, but that was a question better saved for when Jensen had better coordination with the iPad.

"You know what I mean." Tom grinned. He made a lewd motion with his hips and laughed when Jared smacked his shoulder. He wandered toward the bedroom, stripping off his uniform and humming Al Green as he went.

"Hey," Jared called, "Don't forget you have to help me dismantle the cage tomorrow. Jensen's friend Danni's coming and she doesn't know she's staying with a bunch of werewolves."

"I remember," Tom said. "I'll be back in time. But I still think you should let me hang my handcuffs in there and we'll just let her think it's our sex dungeon."

"If you make me die of embarrassment, I will never have sex with you again."

Tom laughed. "When you make a threat, you make a threat."

Jared fought the urge to throw something at him. "Just be here to help me."

"Will do."  
  
  


****

Jensen bounced through the rows of corn with Jared at his tail. He twisted around, snapping playfully, before darting forward again. He'd chased a rabbit into the field and now was hot on its trail. When he caught up to it, he intended to present Jared with a fine meal. Jared might care for him when he was a drooling human, but as a wolf, Jensen prided himself on providing for his mate. The rabbit dove into a hole. Jensen dug frantically, but it was gone.

Jared nuzzled his ear. Turning, Jensen gave him a lick. Soon, he forgot about the rabbit as his nose found other things to explore on Jared's body and Jared returned the favor. He loved nothing more than mounting Jared (except doing so on a full belly), laying his mark on Jared's shoulder with his teeth.

As for anything else, Jensen didn't care about it. This was freedom. This was life. This was all he'd ever needed. The voices that tumbled around his mind didn't bother him as much anymore. He'd grown more powerful and had more control over them. Sometimes he accidentally made Tom or Jared hear one of his thoughts. He needed to be more cautious. Vigilance was key. He was strong enough to keep Morgan's poisons out of his mind. He had no doubt about that. He knew what Tom had said to Jared, what Jared had agreed to, but it wouldn't come to that. He had control. He might be Morgan's heir, but he wasn't the Alpha. He wasn't.

Jared whined beneath him. Being the larger wolf, the practicality of the position wasn't the best for him. Jensen tried to be considerate of that, but sometimes he forgot. He nuzzled Jared's shoulder, trying to soothe him. Jared twitched his tail and hit Jensen's flank. Jensen growled contentedly. The rabbit crept out of the hole, but Jensen ignored it, choosing instead to lavish his attention on Jared, who twisted to meet Jensen's tongue with his own.

  
  


****

Jared awoke naked in a cornfield with Jensen beside him. Jensen's hands flailed. He struck himself in the chest. Jared gathered them up and massaged Jensen's palms as he brought Jensen's fingers to his lips. "It's okay. I've got you." Helping him stand and then hooking his arm around Jensen's back and under his armpit, Jared began the long walk home, step by slow careful step. As they walked, he planned his day. Television for Jensen. Lately he wanted to watch Ghost Hunters over and over, which creeped Jared the hell out. So, he'd set Jensen up with that. As for himself, he would clean. Clutter wasn't good in a house that needed clear paths.

The End

 


End file.
